


Golden Strands of Fine Lines

by SullenLarry



Category: Fine Line - Harry Styles (Album), One Direction (Band), Walls - Louis Tomlinson (Album)
Genre: Album: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Anxiety, Canon AU maybe?, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Harry can feel it take control of who he is and all he's ever known, I'm Bad At Tagging, Is this a dramedy? I think so!, Kissing, Light-Hearted, Louis has a devil inside his brain whispering his name, Louis is exploited for money, M/M, Mentions of stunts. Eww!, Only mentions of Liam and Niall, Partying, Simon Cowell Being An Asshole, Song: Fine Line (Harry Styles), Song: Golden (Harry Styles), closeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullenLarry/pseuds/SullenLarry
Summary: Louis finds himself going out every night trying to fill a void. Harry's trying to record his album. Yet with more press covering Louis' antics, can Harry concentrate? Moreover, is love really the antidote?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Fine Line ficfest - but I had to drop out due to my mother passing away in August. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Notes: This story may be triggering for some. It contains themes of:  
> Binge drinking/Alcoholism  
> Addiction  
> Exploitation  
> Partying  
> Shame of sexuality 
> 
> \--- and probably more as I write the story. I'll try to give you a heads up. It's not as dark as it sounds though, promise!
> 
> P.S. This story was not reviewed by a beta so all my mistakes are my own.

The substratum beneath Louis' feet begins to tremble. It moves but doesn't break, doesn't spread apart, nor gives any action scene like sequences. Somewhere deep inside, Louis wishes that this would be his rapture, that he'd somehow fall into the pits of a chasm and never return.

With one more swallow, he thinks, that this susurrus sound in his head is pounding, vanquishing even, but not enough to make him stop. No, that would take something much more robust, something as simple as willpower. He doesn't care to know where he can get some of that. 

"Don't ya think you've had enough?" Oil asks concerned as he scaffolds him from falling. 

"Ah, come on. You say that every night," Louis scolds him. "Besides, I think this one is going to ask me to take them home," He points to a group of men and women.

"Which one?" Oli raises an eyebrow.

"Doesn't matter to me, Mate," Louis pats him on the shoulder as he takes another drink, stumbling as he makes his way to the group.

His hair, usually a vibrant chestnut, is hidden under a blonde wig. His usual icy blue eyes become disguised with brown contacts. Self-tanner, he borrowed from his sister's company, is sprayed across his skin. It's on nights like these, Louis thinks, that he can be free. Sometimes, not a single person should know your name.

"You lot looking for company?" Louis slurs. "Mansion in the Hills," He brags. 

"I'll bite what you're fishing," A tall man flashes a smile.

"Only if it's hard," Louis stammers, trying to wink. "My name's William."

"Hayden," He shakes out his hand for Louis to shake.

Louis knits his brows together for a second, conjecturing why Harry is here. It's been so long since he's discerned his bandmate. It could be the way this man is built tall, proper fit, and has arm tattoos. Did he say his name was Harry, is that why?

"He doesn't look like Harry at all," he chuckles amongst himself once he blinks. "I'm losing it."

"Well, then, hold that thought," Louis clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he makes his way toward Oli once more. 

He snaps Oli's shot out of hand, downing the vodka in mere seconds. He wipes the corner of his mouth on his sleeve. "Hey, I'm ready to go if you are. I'll have company, though, so I'd appreciate it if you stayed downstairs."

"Fourth time this month," Oli rolls his eyes. "Maybe I should consider moving in with Calvin, or hell, Eleanor for all that matters," He, once again, holds Louis' up by the arm. "Not gonna be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"No way," Louis dismisses as his wrist turns downwards. "Call me driver, yeah?"

With a heavy sigh, Oli whips out his phone as Louis pats him on the shoulder, chanting, "That's a good, Mate," as he makes his way back to the group of strangers.

The earth beneath Louis' feet begins to swing again. He feels as if tiny ballerina's on carousels and windmills are greeting him with sinister smiles, pirouetting their way into his brain, dancing to that annoying buzzing noise. 

With each step, his vision is a blur of a kaleidoscope of auras. He cannot make out the scenery anymore. His heart is slowly coming back down from its previous state. His breathing is being erratic, taking longer than usual to inhale and exhale. 

He drops on his knees, drawling out a pained cry. His stomach contents empty on the floor. He begins to shiver; a sudden coldness rushes over his body though he's sweating. He wants to call for Oli, his bodyguard - anyone. 

The pretty palette in his depth perception transforms into monochromatic grey and ebony tones. His contact lens feels dried out, itchy against his irises. He feels as if his head has an invisible plate of armor on it, suddenly. Unable to sustain the weight pressing on his body, he falls backward with a thud. 

He is startled awake by the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Before opening his eyes, he can smell pine and lemon cleaning solution. His gag reflex is instantly triggered. He tries to ruminate, but it's a lost cause. 

"Sorry," the woman says sincerely. "They called me to scrub behind this chair. They're loud against this tile. I didn't mean to startle you. I know you can't help your vomiting."

Louis' eyes slowly flutter open. A young woman is standing in front of him. Her scrubs are ragged, her hair looks unkempt, but her smile is bedazzling. He notices that she is holding a mop, vigorously cleaning around his bed without asking for an autograph.

"Can I have some water?" He croaks out as he tries to sit up.

The woman walks over to the tray propped against the wall and pours him a tiny glass in a paper cup, bringing it back to his bedside. She pushes a button on the bed that makes it incline. "Here, ya go."

"Thanks, love," Louis half-smiles at her.

He chugs it down despite it feeling like glass going down his esophagus. Once finished, he tries to throw away the cup in the trash can by the bed but misses as it litters the floor.

"I'm Olivia, by the way," She waves at him. "Big fan." 

Oh, here we go. 

"Louis," He utters. "I 'uppose you can' share where I am?"

"You don't remember?" She asks, surprised. "Well, it's all over the news. You collapsed in Club Violet. #GetBetterLouis and #WeLoveYouLouis are trending all over twitter."

Louis' eyes grow wide as he faintly remembers bits and pieces. "What's all over the news, exactly?" 

"I'll let you look at it," She sighs as she gathers her cleaning supplies and wheels her cart toward the door. 

Louis sighs as he tries to grab his phone. Taking pity on him, Olivia retrieves it and places it in his hands. He quickly dismisses the hundreds of notifications, his fingers lingering over the twitter app. He isn't sure if he's ready for this, judging by Olivia's manner.

"Fuck!" He bangs his head on his pillow repeatedly.

"We love you no matter what, you know," Olivia cautiously adjust the bedding that he just strewed around. She wheels her cart back over the door and leaves this time.

Louis' eyes grow wide as he clicks on an article written by The Sun. 

_Friday, just past midnight, Louis Tomlinson (pictured) was disguised in a blonde wig and brown contacts. Sources say he kept the tab hot, reportedly estimated to have drunk 6-7 shots. His friend, Oli Wright, (pictured) can be seen calling 999 as Louis collapses on the nightclub floor.  
Partygoers inform our editors that he was making plans with an attractive, mystery man. The scene comes as a shock to many as he frequently denied homosexuality over the years and reported to be straight. Between 2010-2015, Louis' sexuality was a hot topic as he was linked regularly to be in a secret romantic relationship with bandmate, Harry Styles.  
Fans have speculated that the rumors ruined their friendship as their interaction declined over the years. Hopefully, Louis can get the help he needs and be back on his feet soon. We've reached out to Louis' girlfriend Eleanor Calder, pictured, and Tomlinson's management, but have not received any responses. _

"Oh, shit!" He snaps as he lets his phone fall in his lap.

In a panic, he tries to use the 'call nurse' button, but, per usual, it's just out of reach. He stretches as far as he can handle, his arm stinging as the I.V pulls taut. "Oh, shit! Fuck!" He continues. "Almost got it! Come on, Tommo!" He cheers himself on. 

Just as he grabs the remote, he finds himself splattered on the floor, monitors loudly beeping. He involuntarily puts his head between his knees to quieten the buzzing noise he remembers hearing at the nightclub. 

"Mr. Tomlinson!" He hears shoes scuffing the floor as a group of Nurses help put him back in the bed.

"Alright, alright. Let's not make a fuss, eh?" Louis speaks in frustration. "I was trying to call you lot, anyway." 

"Hello, Louis. I'm Nurse Emma. I'll be taking care of you this morning. Do you need anything?" She questions as she begins to write protocols on the dry erase board.

"Going home would be lovely," He tries to smile, but the blood gushing out of his arm due to the ripped out intravenous contraption hurts a tad.

He closes his eyes as another Nurse feels for his pulse, trying to insert it into a new spot. "Big stick," she preps him. "It's hard to find a good vein for you. You're so dehydrated and have little veins anyway."

"Oh, I do not. I'm big," Louis protests as he shuts his eyes and clinches his teeth together.

"I missed," The Nurse says sorrowfully. "Let me see your other hand." Louis sighs as he reads the name on her shirt: Becky. "There we go," She says in triumph.

"Fank you," Louis mutters as he turns his attention back to Nurse Emma. "So, about that going home piece, love?"

"Louis," She crosses her arms. "Did you know you suffered from alcohol poisoning last night?"

"Me suppose it's possible, yeah," He nods. "Proper blackout and all. I can see that, sure."

"Okay...and did you know that you were nearing a coma-like state when the paramedics arrived?" She sternly retorts.

Louis huffs, as his patience is growing thin. Can she just get to the point already?

"I know you're a big pop star and are used to getting your way, but you're to stay in this hospital, Mr. Tomlinson. Haven't you noticed how uncoordinated you are? With addicts," She tries to explain but is quickly interrupted.

"I'm not an addict, love," Louis answers amused.

"WITH ADDICTS," She emphasizes. "Shakiness of the hands shows up around 6 hours after your last drink. Well, you're enduring those right now, aren't you? Within the next few hours, you may hallucinate, seizures, high blood pressure, sweati-..."

"Why do you think I'm an addict? I don't do hard drugs," Louis discontinues her again. "Maybe in the past few months, I've been drinking when I go out. Is that what you want to hear? I'm ready to go home."

Nurse Becky shoots some sort of solution into Louis' I.V. as he gives her a sharp look. She smiles at him before backing away, allowing Nurse Emma to continue the spiel. "You are under a court-ordered, mandated 72-hour hold."

"What kind of fuckery is this?" Louis tries to stand up but notices his vision is getting a little hazy. He watches from hooded eyes as a third Nurse brings him over a copy of the court document. He flips to the last page, seeing the signature of his manager, Mark Gillespie. 

"Sleep well, Mr. Tomlinson. We'll come and check on you frequently." 

He looks at Nurse Becky and yawns. "Nobody ever answered why you think I'm an addict."

"I don't," Nurse Becky sympathized. "They found an incredible amount of benzos in your blood, more specifically, Rohypnol. It's a common date rape drug. Mixed with alcohol, well, it causes respiratory depression. Emma just wants you to be mindful of how much you drink. You could turn into an alcoholic, you know."

Louis tries to stay conscious and listen, but much like at the club, it's all ruinous.  


\-------------

Three days of the same routine: meds, vitals, lectures came and went. Louis concludes that maybe being here hasn't been so bad. Here, he doesn't have to fix his hair, try and juggle countless obligations, or worry about his entire reputation coming undone from printed false stories. Here, all that's expected of him is resting and making promises that he understands the risk of promiscuous sex and drinking too much at parties.

"Happy to be home," he removes his feet from the dashboard of his car. "My back is killing me!"

"72-hour hold," Oli says as he lights up a cigarette and parks Louis' car in the garage. "I think you need a lifestyle change now, huh?"

"Not you too," Louis rolls his eyes. "Look, Mate, I'm young, wild, and free. We are going to go out Friday night, and I'm going to show you I can have a good time without getting out of hand."

"About that," Oli cautiously replies as he walks to the door. "Um, so, people have been blowing up my phone about you, and...." He scratches his head and takes a long drag of his cigarette.

"Spit it out already, yeah I wanna go inside and hug me dog," Louis smiles as he sees Clifford looking at him from the window.

"Harry said he's in London writing songs and made me promise I'd tell him the next time you go out. He wants to accompany us," Oli looks at Louis' nervously. "And well, I don't break promises, so."

Louis rubs his chin, looking ahead at his beautifully landscaped yard. "Looks like we have ourselves a proper date then. I haven't seen him in a while, yeah? Miss him. Miss them all."

He smiles as he enters his house, greeting Clifford and rolling around the floor with the curly-furred creature. "Missed you most."

After settling in, Louis decides that he's bored already. Restless. He tries to entertain himself with writing poetry, playing guitar, and watching television, but nothing seems to satisfy his needs. 

He scrolls through his contacts, contemplating who can fulfill that itch he has in the back of his throat. His mind briefly flutters to the Nurse's lecture on promiscuous sex, but then he digs his thumb in his thighs and dismisses the idea right away. 

"I'm thinking of calling Thayer," Louis blurts out absent-mindedly. 

"Is that such a good idea? You just got home from the hospital," Oli shakes his head in disbelief. 

"Don't you remember why we went clubbing in the first place? I am a man with needs, Oli. I want to be held, told I am pretty, and hurt all at the same time!"

"TMI," Oli shields his ears with his hands. 

"Sorry," Louis winks at him. "Not in a dominating way. Like literally hurt."

Oli stares at him. "Louis, something's going on with you. I wish you'd talk to me more."

"I'm trying," Louis sighs in frustration. "I just don't know how to explain it." He's quiet for a while, rubbing his hair with his hands. He knows he has these small nervous tics, but he just can't seem to find ways to stop them. "It's getting all too much. I don't want to sound spoiled."

"You don't have to worry about sounding like anything in front of me," Oli patted his shoulder.

"Since I was eighteen years old, I've been controlled and told who I can see, who I can't. I'm someone I don't want to be anymore. Every time I think of rebelling, I think of Harry, you know?" 

"Is that the only time you think about him?"

Louis begins to bite his nail. "Have you ever wanted to speak about something so bad, but you're afraid if you start, you'll never stop?" 

Oli puts his arm around Louis, the two of them sitting in comfortable silence. Clifford jumps up on the couch and joins them, making a small howl as he puts his head on Louis' lap. 

They don't notice the majestic orange and reds of sunset have transformed into the twinkling of stars and fireflies. Louis doesn't even see when Oli simply hides his phone under a couch cushion, hoping he will forget about inviting anyone over - especially another creep that he can't help but hate. He hates them all. 

_Louis picks the worst people he can find, I swear. Then again, that's the only type of person who would sign a non-disclosure agreement for their silence, with a small fee attached, of course._

"I'm going to bed," Oli yawns. "Had to get up early and pick someone up."

"You love it," Louis yawns back. "But that isn't such a bad idea. Had my fair share of resting at the hospital, but I could sleep all day, every day." 

"I know," Oli laughs. "Don't forget your phone." 

"Fanks," Louis mutters as he makes his way up the stairs. Before putting the device on charge, he notices the notifications from his other friends. 

(Niall) Glad to see you're home, Tommo  
(Liam) You had me worried sick. Call me and stay off Twitter.  
(Eleanor) So is my contract over now?  
(Harry) Call me Lou, pls x  
(Calvin) What the fuck u went out w/o me! This woulda never happened under my watch.  
(Hot-Luke): LouLou pic eh

"I love them all," Louis smiles. 

It isn't until he sees a text from his business partners that the smile falters.

Simon (Group text to Mark, Louis, and Team): My office at 8 am.

"Well, almost all of them."  


\--------

He shifts around uncomfortable in the leather chair as he waits on Simon and his goons to come into the conference room. He browses through his phone as he reads the comments from fans. Most are saying how concerned they are about him; others are sending him praise for finally being comfortable with his sexuality.

_I wish that were true._

"Louis," Simon points a remote to the wall as a projector screen comes down. "Hope you are doing better."

"Me suppose I am, yeah," Louis doesn't look at Simon. His eyes stay glued to the floor.

"A 72-hour hold. This is a remnant of 2015, don't you think? You go out every night, being photographed of every woman with a pulse. The difference here, Louis, I gotta tell you. It's not easy to say. The medical scare is good publicity....being seen trying to pick up men is bad publicity," Simon taps his fingers on the table. "We have to fix this."

"Simon," Mark warns. "No. Louis is suffering, can't you see that?" 

"With all due respect, Mr. Gillispe, you are his manager. I am one of his record execs. I am here to sell records."

"With all due respect, Mr. Cowell, what does him dancing with men have to do with that?" Mark taps Louis' shoulder.

"Quite frankly," Simon turns his chair around and faces Louis square. "I'm not opposed to dropping you. You haven't even released a record yet. I don't have anything stopping me. Your singles, I graciously let you drop, didn't perform the numbers I wanted anyway."

Mark and Louis look at each-other hopefully. _Please, please. Drop me._

"But that would be losing another member of One Direction. I'd have to let you go from that contract, too. Hiatus isn't forever, you know," Simon smirks when he sees Louis winches. "Do you know what I'm going to do for you, Louis? I'm going to give you a quarter year break."

"But my album," he tries to protest, but Simon waves his hand. 

"Four months to clear your head and think of what's essential. One more stunt like that, and I'll not have any choice. I thought you understood the agreement when I flew you to America when you were 18. Mr. Styles might appreciate your compliance. You don't want him to have to start picking up the slack and stunting, do you?"

Louis grimaces as he nods silently, his eyes settling into his lap. Mark opens his mouth to speak but decides it against when he notices Louis digging his nails into the flesh of his wrists. Simon smirks as he gets up to leave. 

"If you agree to this little break, please sign on the dotted line so I can request a mental health leave of absence. This includes no promo, no photoshoots, no studio time. You need to stay indoors and focus," Simon scoots the document toward Louis' manager and leaves the room.

"Louis," Mark says softly, but Louis just grabs a pen and quickly scribbles his name.

"Hey, fanks for coming today. It's nice to have people on my side. I think this break will do me good, yeah?" He turns on his heel and exits the building. 

He walks to the parking garage and locates his car, unlocking it quickly and jumping in the driver's seat. He locks his doors back, just in case, and looks around the multimillion-dollar establishment. He thinks, for a moment, that this is the place that bestowed both financial freedoms and made him a prisoner of circumstance. 

"Fuck!" He screams as he bites his finger. 

The tears begin to drip down his face as he hits his steering wheel over and over again, each punch making his hand whither in pain. He stops when he is satisfied with the stinging, to only turn his attention to banging his head on his seat. 

"FUCK!" 

_He knows my weakness. He just had to bring Harry into this. He knows I don't give a shit about myself, but Hazza deserves to be free. He deserves to live his life, wearing his pearls, and wave around rainbow flags. He does. I won't take that away from him._

With the radio blaring, Louis revs his engine as he rushes out of the parking garage, away from this forsaken graveyard.

\------

Friday night arrives without incident. Louis tries to stay in the house and not raise attention to himself as he settles into his new routine: eat, sleep, think. Oli gives him worrisome vibes as they cross each-others company, though the small talk has mainly ceased.

It makes him angry that all he's focused on and promised has been his album. Finally, something to call his own and showcase his musical skills - for everyone to take him seriously, and just like that, he is silenced. Simon has an uncanny way of taking away his voice, and Louis is unsure if he will ever escape the nightmare he's been in for a decade now.

"I'm ready," He calls from the bathroom, spritzing cologne on his neck. "Except, I need you to cover my arm tattoos."

His hair is red tonight. It isn't a wig, but a semi-permanent dye. He decides against the contact lens this time, afraid that his body is still not hydrated enough to not suffer the dry eye itch. He dresses in all black clothing, reminiscent of his 2015 bad-boy vibes. Nobody will expect this; he concludes as he glances at his dirty laundry - trackies and straight-legged jeans in a disorderly pile. 

"What?" Oli gasps. "Why don't you just wear long sleeves?"

"It's too obvious," Louis mewls. "I can't be papped. Nobody can recognize me, Oli. No-one!" 

Sighing, Oli grabs the dermablend out of Louis' hands and reads the directions. "The things I do for you."

"You love me," Louis shrugs as Clifford whimpers for attention at his feet. "I'll be back soon, bud," he says, petting his fur with his free hand. 

Twenty minutes later, they head out the door. Louis' driver, Sam, meets them at the curb. They wordlessly ride to 'RainbowCharms', Louis criticizing himself for not getting a kickstart on his drinking. The only way that Oli agreed to go, however, is if he promised not to get out of hand; and well, drinking before leaving the house has its potential for that. 

"Just call when you're ready to come, boys," Sam says as he unlocks the door.

"Will do, Mate," Louis pats him on the shoulder as they exit out the car.

The first thing they notice when they walk in is the strong-shouldered, dark-haired man pacing around the VIP section. Louis smiles when he sees silver rings reflecting off the strobe lights, almost as if they're signaling him to make his presence known and save this man from loneliness. 

Louis' heart begins to beat fast. As he walks, he cracks his fingers, twirls around the turquoise VIP bracelet, breathing heavily. Oli places his hand on the small of his back for comfort, but it is not working. It's been so long since he's seen Harry that he isn't sure what to say. He isn't sure how to act for that matter. 

_What are we now?_

He walks up the stairs, clearing his throat as he smiles gleefully. He beams when Harry places his hands behind his back and bows at him, giving a subtle grin.

"Red hair?" Harry questions as he hugs Louis tightly, slightly lifting him off the ground. "Did you get your tattoos lasered off?" He asks hurt, taking Louis' arm and twisting it back and forth.

"Never love," Louis disagrees. "I just covered them up. Don't want another incident like last week, you know? Tabloids and all of that. You were smart to wear street clothes and a ball cap." 

"Hey Oli," Harry blushes. 

"Hey. Nice to see ya!" He smiles and looks between the two. "I'll be back." Oli walks down the VIP area and greets people in the common area. 

Louis can't help but stare. His eyes are the same emerald bedazzling color that he always has gazed in for hours, for days, for years. They radiate hope, warmth, home even. He notices that there is something a little somber in them, perhaps dimming just a tad. 

"I can't believe it's been 6 months since I've seen you," Harry sits down at the bar, his body turned toward Louis. he orders two Miami Sunrise. "Life moves too fast." 

"That it does," Louis agrees as he sips on his drink. "So, why'd you want to come out with me now? I mean, I've missed you, of course, but...." 

"I couldn't wait," Harry answers honestly. "After seeing you passed out. I was so worried. I wanted to see you at the hospital, but I got a nasty text," He lowers his head in shame. 

"Nasty text?" Louis doesn't sip this time, gulping down his drinking and requesting a straight shot of vodka. "From who?"

"Doesn't matter. I shouldn't have listened. I thought I was doing you a favor, but then Liam said," Harry takes a sip from his drink, allowing Louis to interrupt.

"Liam!" Louis snaps. "He promised me he wouldn't tell anyone. Oh well, it doesn't matter. We are here together now, eh?" Louis reasons as he orders another shot.

"Exactly," Harry smirks as he takes the vodka from Louis. "You trying to end up back in the hospital? Alcoholism is serious, you know."

"Except," Louis sighs as he pulls Harry in to whisper in his ear. "I was roofied." 

"You were not," Harry dismisses. 

"I was so you little shit!" Louis teases. "Granted, I can't tell you the number of drinks I had that night, but that's just a minor detail." 

"Very minor," Harry hums as he orders them two glasses of water with lemon. "Care to dance?"

"Always," Louis says excitedly, sipping the water and then ordering a shot instead. "Trying to trick me, Styles? You're so cute. Now, shall we?"

Much to Louis' delight, it isn't long before Harry stands behind him, pushing their bodies together. He wraps one arm around Louis' waist, the other is laying lazily at his side. This feels so natural - the same way their bodies have always tangled; two souls igniting, even if only for a flicker in time. 

His teeth sink deep into his bottom lip, a bitten raw reminder that this is real. This is real. This is not Hayden. This is not Noah. Logan. Anastasia. This is Harry, his Harry. He's dancing with his Harry in the safety of this club, with red hair and covered tattoos. 

Harry sways them both back and forth, his free hand wrapping itself around Louis' throat. It's funny that this being here in this embrace, is the only way he can breathe - feel anchored. 

_& it's the only thing they have to smother me, float away in this endless sea of madness. _

"Louis," Harry purrs in his ear, bringing them back into the here and now. He says other words, but Louis is drunk - he's so drunk. He's gone. He doesn't ever want to be sober again. He wants to forever enjoy this intoxicating fragrance of his emerald home.

He places his hand on top of Harry's, sweating beading down his torso as he feels Harry's thumb at his waistband. He's not sure if he will make it through this night alive if he can continue to breathe, not just be here. For so long, this was the high he's changing. 

_But for how long?_

"Fucking geez, Mate," Oli pants. "I had to show all sorts of I.D and jump through hoops to get back up to this lounge! I mean, I know I'm just here because of your status or whatever but.....oh," He stops as he trails away, gawking at his friend. "I'm just going us a drink...."

Louis heard Oli's voice, but he can't gather the ability to care. He doesn't care that he's vulnerable, not so rigid tonight. He's tired of being tough - he only wants to be loved, and well, he only wants to be loved this way. 

"You came to this club tonight to be on my side of London," Harry's baritone voice rings in his ear. "Come home with me tonight, Louis." 

The hand wrapped around Louis' throat tilts his chin up, their eyes meeting for the first time during the song. Auras of seafoam surround them as Louis' mouth falls open, a plea to be released, sent into the euphoric sky. 

He feels Harry breathing on him, and just before he can gather his thoughts, let himself continue to live in the vulnerability, he pulls away. Simon's words, his prison putting on chains again. With a small sigh, he turns away, facing Harry and smiling.

A wounded expression twinkles on Harry's face as Louis pulls away and joins Oli at the bar. He holds up 4 fingers, going down the line and swinging them back rapidly. He slams the glass on the bar, winking at Harry as he kisses his cheek. 

"No drugs on the bottom of these, eh?" Oli taunts, trying to lighten the mood as Harry stands bewildered. "Won't be any tabloids in the morning. This disguise is great, right?" 

"It is," Harry agrees as he watches Louis dance around with himself. "Still beautiful, though." 

Oli pats him on the back before trying to catch Louis from going down the stairs of the VIP lounge, ushering his presence back up. "Maybe I should call Sam to get us."

"Care if I join you?" Harry is surprised at the sound of his own voice booming. "I'll wait with you until my driver comes."

"Have at it," Louis slurs as he confidently grabs ahold of Harry. His palms are holding the bends of Harry's sleeves tightly. "I love this song." 

His body begins to radiate heat. The schnapps fills his senses with fruity overtones, but it's his heart that's bursting with flames. "Harry?" He whispers when he stumbles forward, their bodies slam together. 

"Shh," Harry hushes him, holding them together like a puzzle piece. "I won't let you go." 

"Dance with me," Louis says in a stupor state. "Just dan-,"

"Louis," Oli gasps as he sees a tear fall from a sparkling blue eye. Harry nods at him, _I have this now_ in his subconscious. 

They support him up, making their way outside and into the waiting vehicle. Not another word is said - the alcohol making an already weak Louis fall deep into slumber. 

"Thanks for being here tonight," Oli sighs as they slam the door shut. "Can we do this tomorrow?"

"What?" Harry gapes. "I'm proper wore out." 

"It's up to you. Just know, tomorrow will be bad," Oli whispers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter! I've written several drafts about how it should go and this one seemed to flow the best. <3 Who watched Louis' livestream? "A Copy of A Copy of A Copy" was great, wasn't it?!

Louis has always found the rain in London comforting. There's something about the sound of the droplets beading down a tin roof that sends him straight into a lulled state. Clifford, however, doesn't have the same perspective. He's as nervous as an aspiring singer trying to make it to the next round. 

"Have some mercy on me," Louis begs through gritted teeth. "I have a hangover from hell!" 

Clifford can only whine and put his chin on Louis' back. Louis tries to peek at him through one eye, but the small light peering into his room is too much for his pounding head. 

"Oh, fuck!" He groans as he rushes to the toilet. Before he can even raise the lid, his stomach becomes knotted, and his throat burns with vomit. His palms are pressed on the floor as he sniffles as his body repeats the process. 

He shakily stands up as he feels curly fur graze his calves. He smiles at his best-friend as he walks over to the sink to brush his teeth, silently praying that toothpaste will mask the smell and taste of yesterday's acidic bile. 

He looks in the mirror and reflects on the previous night as he notes the still red hair and tattoos hardly peeking through the almost gone dermablend. His mind wanders to dancing with Harry, grateful for the escape for a moment. 

"I thought I heard stirring," He hears as his eyes shift to Oli's reflection in the mirror. "It's noon, you know."

"Is that all?" Louis gawks. "I feel like shit, Mate."

"Look like it, too!" Oli teases. 

"Haha," Louis barks unamused. "Hey, did last night get crazy?"

"Define crazy," Oli folds his arm as he cocks an eyebrow at Louis.

"I just remember dancing with Harry," He shrugs as he rinses his toothbrush. 

"Well, yes, that happened," Oli snorts. "You were moody. One minute you were laughing, the next you had tears on your cheek." 

"You little shit!" Louis punches Oli on the arm. 

"It's true!" Oli calls out as he watches Louis' face change into something somber. "You didn't stay awake long after that. I was proper worried about you, you know? Harry was too, I'd say." 

Louis ponders at the thought as he walks out of his room. Clifford's tail wags as they make their way downstairs. Clifford is thankful for the change of scenery as it creates a small distance between him and the sound of the rain. 

"I'm drained," Louis is surprised at the words exiting his mouth. "But I think I want to go out tonight. It's Saturday, you know? I haven't even called Thayer yet!" 

"You don't remember, do you?" Oli grabs Louis' shoulder and guides him to the kitchen. "Drink this," He demands as he pours Louis a glass of orange juice. "You were just on a 72-hour hold and you want to go right back to what you were doing before!"

"Chill, love," Louis chuckles as he graciously takes the cup. "I'll be fine."

"No, no. You're not doing that!" Oli interjected as he slammed his fist on the kitchen island. "Insanity cycle, Louis!"

Louis' eyes grow into saucers as he watches his usually calm friend's demeanor grow frustrated. Instead of engaging like a mature person, he clicks his tongue to this roof of his mouth. 

"You can sit this one out, yeah? I'll be fine. You can play in my arcade room. Cliff needs someone to hang-out with anyway since Eleanor is in Paris," Louis shrugs. 

"You're impossible," Oli mutters as he leaves the room.

\------

Silence is dangerous, Louis concludes. With his legs extended out in front of him, he rubs his temples as he tries to alleviate the still there throb. He can't decipher if it's a yearning for his album causing him to feel queasy or the realization that he can never admit to the world beyond a triangle tattoo that he's trapped in a glass closet.

This afternoon, he reasons, that he's tired of hiding behind secrets, lies, and illusions. His team already took his album away...again. What else can they strip from him? Truthfully, he doesn't want to know that answer, but dammit, he's tired of bowing down to dictators.

Sighing heavily, he retrieves his phone out of his pocket. He strokes the back of his neck with his free hand, gulping as he tries to catch his breath. He shakes his head despite himself when he realizes he's performed in front of millions of people, but this is making his heartbeat louder than any arena ever could.

"Hello?" He hears a baritone voice on the other end. 

"Hey," Louis squeaks above a whisper. "How are you?" He mindlessly picks at a piece of string hanging from his shirt. 

"I'm fine. How are you?" He hears in his ear, smiling at himself.

"I'm doing okay except this shit hangover."

He hears silence for a second. "Eh, yeah. You did drink a lot last night," A small giggle erupts in his ear. It's not genuine - it sounds forced and nervous. 

"Oh, I did?" Louis tries to act surprised. "I'm working on that," he lies. "So, um, I called to ask if you maybe wanted to go back to the club tonight?"

Silence again. "Um, no. I don't think so," Rejection makes his handshake for a second. Right now would be the perfect time to apologize for calling and hang up the phone, he thinks, but before he can gather his strength, the voice continues. "But I would like it if you came over. We can still dance and drink if you want." Another nervous giggle.

"Yeah, sure. Of course. I'll be there soon." 

"Great!"

"Okay, I'll see you then," He quickly pushes the end call button and drops his phone on his lap. He utilizes his typical soothing technique of putting his thumb to the roof of his mouth. 

"Oli!!" He calls. "We're going to Harry's! Get ready!"

\------

"Just call when you're ready to come home, boys," Sam says with his usual routine of unlocking the backseat door.

"Will do, Mate," Louis pats him on the shoulder (their ritual). "Hey, why don't you go shopping while you wait?" He suggests as he hands over some money to his driver.

"Thank you," Sam replies with sincerity as he drives away.

Oli and Louis wave from the rearview mirror. He feels as if his feet are encased in cement, planted to the asphalt of Harry's yard. It's been so long since he's visited Harry in a home setting. It feels forbidden being here, and he knows it has everything to do with his meeting with Simon days prior. 

"You okay?" Oli shifts his eyes in concern. "We can call Sam if you want." 

"No, no. I'm fine. What are you on about?" Louis snaps in embarrassment as Oli smickers in the knowing. He wills himself to approach the front door. 

He adjusts his fringe with the small reflection peering out of the stained glass door before ringing the doorbell. He looks at Oli and lets out a sigh as he arranges his fringe again, an anxious tic that he can't control. 

"Hello again," Harry smiles as he rushes them in. "Sorry. Never know if paparazzi are out there or not." 

"God, I know," Louis huffs. "Can't even get roofied without the world knowing about it." Oli and Harry's eyes shift, a somber mood echoing in the room. "The price of fame, eh? Nobody knows that better than you, Mr. Styles."

"Disagree," Harry shakes his head. "It's hard for everyone."

"Me guess so," Louis clicks his tongue to his teeth. "Fanks for inviting us over, by the way."

"Don't mention it," Harry giggles. "How does a movie sound tonight?" 

"I love that!" Oli doesn't hesitate to answer. "How about you, Lou?"

"Sure, Lads," he concludes. "Do you have any vodka?" 

"Full bar," Harry gleams. "What do you like to chase it with?"

"Oh, Haz," Louis lets his wrist go limp. "Straight, please." Oli gives him a death-stare but all Louis can do is wink at him in reassurance. "One for my uptight friend, too, please. You know what? Make that two each!"

\------

"That was a sick night!" Louis breathes heavily through his nostrils. "I didn't realize how much I needed that. I liked the movie too!" He turns his body as he stumbles just the slightest bit. "Still into those rom coms, are ya?"

"Yes!" Harry squeaks. "You know you loved it."

"A movie named The Sun is Also A Star. Sounds like an emo song," Louis laughs as he falters his way to the front door. 

Harry grabs his arm to steady his feet. "Stay! You and Oli both. We used to live together, remember?" He feels awkward and hurt at the same time when Louis backs away a little and scratches his scalp. With the stars aglow, he turns his body toward the quiet man. "It will be fun. I will stay out of your way, promise. Please?"

He looks at Louis' wandering face. His eyes are gleaming with flecks of stars and galaxies that create gravity, pulling Harry into an ethereal force. They're pleading for Harry to do something else, Harry notices, but he can't piece together what. 

"Please!" Harry repeats. He can feel Louis' muscles tremble when he brushes his arm again. He's not sure if he will ever break that habit—a little glint of hope flashes before his eyes when Louis doesn't pull away this time. 

"Sure, love. I guess we can stay one night, yeah?" Louis mirrors Harry's smile. 

"Yes!" Oli agrees.

"I'm always a good host; you know that!" He unlocks his door and turns on his lights. "You won't regret it."

Wrinkling his nose, he turns and walks toward the kitchen. It's been years since he'd been graced with the task of getting Louis something in his home. The last time, he thinks, wasn't on the best terms. 

_You told me that my cars are getting too flashy and that I've lost who I am_. 

"So, um, I'm going to go and call Calvin," Oli rubs the back of his neck as he scurries up the stairs. "I'll find a guest room, no worries!" 

"Old man!" Louis teased as Oli looked back at him and flipped him off. 

"You probably won't touch this strawberry wine because you have a new chav persona and all. I know you used to like it," Harry teases. "Just in case, here is some rose wine too."

"Strawberry and rose, huh? So diverse," Louis sarcastically replies. "What makes you think I've changed? I'm still the same guy you met in the band, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry replies simply. He stops himself from having this conversation tonight. He's just happy that Louis agreed to stay the night at all. It isn't worth scaring him away.

He stares at Louis, hoping his face isn't radiating with butterflies. He's always loved this man, and well, Louis used to allow him to. 

_That was so long ago when we were free._

Shifting around uncomfortably, Louis pops the cork on the wine and pours the contents into chilled glasses. Harry watches as he takes large gulps, finishing in mere seconds only to serve himself another.

"Mmm. That is quite tasty. Should've known you'd have posh wine," Louis approves. "So, I was talking to Oli the other day, right? He was proper wasted. To be fair, I was too. Anyway, he kept rambling on about how I go out too much, blah blah blah. I said back to him, 'You're always right beside me, Mate.' He dared to say he's protecting me. Protecting me from what?" Louis scoffs. "Thanks, daddy Wright," He giggles.

"What do you do exactly when you go out?" Harry questions nonchalantly. He stares at a little freckle on Louis' cheek, taking a small sip of wine. 

Hopefully, not stuck in 2015, Harry secretly crosses his fingers mentally.

"Usually, I just dance with someone." Louis shrugs. "Oli thinks I have some weird complex. He says I pick the most touchy-feely person in the room and hope they'll let me take them home."

Harry tries to hide his envy with a half-smile. "Hmm."

_Yep. He is._

"I know. That's weird, right?" Louis chuckles. "Like it isn't that big of a deal. I'm a man in my 20s. I've got time to find my person." 

Harry looks at Louis softly. "You've worried me a few times."

"I remember," Louis smirks, rubbing the little stubble on his chin. "Liam said you were just jealous back then."

Harry ponders that sentence as he runs his fingers through his curls. "Well, there's that. It was also the fact that you were dancing with women in little black dresses. They kept pushing that stupid narrative on you and....." Harry sighs.

"You're cute," Louis clicks his tongue to the top of his mouth. "No narrative. I'm straight, I swear," He smirks. "Obviously."

Then what were we?

"We've been controlled since we were kids," Harry rubs his hands together as Louis' mouth opens then closes. "Want to hear a famous Styles rant for old times?"

"Not tonight, love," Louis smiles as crinkles form by his eyes. "I was there; I lived that. I probably feel the same. Let's just.... enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Touché," Harry stuck out his lips like an eloquent amphibian. 

Louis' reserved for a while. He looks out of Harry's bay window with his arms crossed over his waist. 

I'm losing him to his walls again. 

"My sophomore album's coming along," Harry gulps, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. He takes a sip and crosses his legs. The wine feels like sweet nectar as it paints his throat. 

Louis bites his lip harshly before downing another. "Yeah? I've heard one," he sets his glass on the coffee table. "Golden."

"You're lying," Harry gasps as he grabs the two bottles and takes them back to the refrigerator. Lou's had enough, he thinks. "I just recorded the demo not too long ago!"

"Then how do I know the name, love?" Louis retorts back as he grabs Harry's glass and begins to sip. "The lyrics are phenomenal, by the way." 

"Thank you," Harry blushes. "Who gave you a copy, anyway?" He says half-heartedly.

Louis scoots closer to him. "I have my sources," Louis exacerbates as his wrist slowly turns down. "It's fabulous. It speaks to me." 

"There's the Louis I met in 2010, by the way," Harry says as he takes back his wine glass. "Intelligent, emotional, sassy, flamboyant, yet sinister." 

Louis scoots the slightest bit closer to Harry. He crosses one leg over the other and rests his head on the arm of the couch. "Too in love to think straight. That's a no-no in a boyband. Hey, can I try another flavor now?"

Harry quickly drinks the glass in his hand that Louis is trying to grab. "Is it that awkward being around me?" He didn't mean to ask that question out loud. "Do you have to fill your blood with alcohol to tolerate me?" He tries to ask jokingly. His voice sounds subdued, somewhat insecure, but he is proud of the composure he can convey. 

"Of course not, love," Louis cautiously puts his hand on Harry's thigh. "I'm sorry. I'm just nervous."

"Nervous? Louis, we used to share toothbrushes!" Harry giggles. 

"You've always made me nervous," Louis tries to whisper. The alcohol only intensifies the raspiness in his voice.

He can't tell if the wine is beginning to hit him, or it's the way Louis still has his hand on his thigh. He doesn't care to know. He just wants to bask in this heat forever. 

"I know that you're scared because I'm so open," Louis hums.

Harry's eyes widen when Louis slithers his way into his lap. His knees are sunk deep in the couch, putting them face to face. Harry breathes in mint, wine, and cigarettes. His mouth flies open as he feels hot breath on his lips. 

"I used to sit in your lap all the time," Louis' voice is quivering. "Do you remember that?"

Harry wraps his long arms around the small of Louis' back. He holds him close to his chest. Louis' head falls to his inviting shoulder.

"I remember it," Louis continues. "It was the only place I was allowed to be myself. Will you dance with me, Harry, like when we were young? Like yesterday?" 

As he removes himself from Harry's lap and offers his hand for support, Harry can't help but miss the weight that was on top of him. He is eager to hold his hand, his heart beating loudly.

_Can he hear that?_

"I'd be honored," Harry tries to bow gracefully but stumbles. "Just let me do something really quick." 

He asks his app to dim the lights before walking to the restroom to wash his face. He checks himself in the mirror, critically kicking himself for having bloodshot eyes and greasy hair. He sprays dry shampoo on the top of his curls, massaging it in. He spritzes a little cologne on his neck. God knows he has an unlimited supply of Gucci since being their spokesman. 

"Okay, it's just Louis, and he doesn't give a shit about the way you look. This will be just two friends dancing just like last night," Harry monologued himself in the mirror. "Strawberry lip balm just in case," He pointed his finger. 

By the time he makes it back into the living room, the scene in front of him pulls out a fond stare at his bandmate. Louis, who was swaying back and forth to imaginary music, was sipping wine straight from the bottle that Harry knows he put back in the refrigerator earlier.

"There you are, Mate!" Louis rushes to him excitedly. "No more, I promise," he puts the bottle down on the table. "Just had a dry mouth, love," He beams at him. "Take my hand, Hazza."

Hazza. Mmm. He's trying to kill me tonight.

"Any request?" Harry's voice breaks as Louis reaches out his hand delicately, his wrist slightly bent.

"Golden," Louis says confidently. "I want you to play that record for us."

"Okay," Harry agrees. Without faltering, he reaches down and retrieves his phone. With quivering fingers, he opens his voice memos. A stripped-down early version begins to vibrate through the air.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry's neck, holding him tightly, bringing their bodies together. Harry can feel his pearl necklace pressing against Louis' chest tattoo. With the earth moving beneath their feet, they begin to sway to the mellow tune erupting through the darkness.

_Golden, golden, golden  
As I open my eyes  
Hold it, focus, hoping  
Take me back to the light  
I know you were way too bright for me  
I'm hopeless, broken  
So you wait for me in the sky  
Browns, my skin just right._

Louis takes his head and puts it in the crook of Harry's neck, his fluffy chestnut hair entangling with Harry's. He staggers his way through twists and rocking back and forth. He tries to get even closer, pressing their hips together. His breath is vibrating Harry's ear as he whispers the lyrics. 

Harry congeals the grip on his waist, his face moving to feel the slight stubble on Louis' left cheek. He swallows when he feels tiny droplets slide underneath his shirt. Instinctively, he removes one hand and feels Louis' jawline to confirm what he already knows.

_You're so golden  
You're so golden  
I'm out of my head  
And I know that you're scared  
Because hearts get broken._

"It's okay," he promises as he uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear streaming down the gorgeous face. He wishes he knew what he was promising comfort for. 

"Wine makes me emotional," Louis removes his head for a second to look at Harry and half-smile, only to quickly place it back in the crook of his neck.

"I know," Harry smiles.

He brings his hand to the back of Louis' neck, caressing the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck. He changes the rhythm to a slightly slower pace, watching the moonlight illuminate half of their bodies. He shuts his eyes, trying to control his own sentiments as he feels another teardrop drip down.

_I don't wanna be alone  
I don't wanna be alone  
When it ends  
Don't wanna let you know  
I don't wanna be alone  
But I, I can feel it take a hold (I can feel it take a hold)  
I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control)  
Of who I am and all I've ever known  
Loving you's the antidote._

"Lou?" Harry's voice breaks. 

"Loving you's the antidote," he hears Louis echo after the original line has passed on the speakers. He can feel Louis' lip quivering on the vein protruding from his neck. His shirt is messy with all that comes with crying, but all he can focus on is the puzzling turn of the mood.

Louis' knees suddenly buckle, his body drawls over though he's still holding onto Harry's neck. Harry positions him to where they're hip to hip, one hand around his waist while the other is under his arm, helping him up the stairs. 

The music follows them as they make their way up the marble staircase.

_Golden  
You're so golden  
I don't wanna be alone  
You're so golden  
You're so golden  
I'm out of my head  
And I know that you're scared  
Because hearts get broken  
I know that you're scared  
Because I'm so open._

Harry guides Louis to one of his spare bedrooms. Inside are grey walls with twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling. Cashmere sheets and auras of blue and grey blankets reside on the neatly made-up bed. 

"Is this room, okay?" Harry questions softly.

"Of course, Mate," Louis tries to smile. He raises the bottom of his shirt to dab his eyes. His cheeks are red, which matches the whites of his eyes. Harry notes that he's never seen a more beautiful shade of blue under the lights aglow. He stares at Louis' shaking hands, unable to control the urge to put his on top for comfort.

"Sorry about that down there. I think I had one too many," Louis slightly giggles. "Are you upset with me?"

"Upset with you? Of course not, Lou! We've had many nights like this over the years," Harry begins to rub small circles on his hand. "You can always be yourself around me."

Louis smiles at Harry, resting his head on his shoulder once again. 

"I know that you're scared because I'm so open," Louis whispers, his voice breaking through most of the words. The tears begin to fall once again, his lip quivering, and his eyes immediately shut as he curls himself into a ball on the bed, head in Harry's lap, his shirt covering his face.

Harry falters for a second - the wine clouding his judgment. He doesn't know how to act in this new normal between them. In the past, he would've just laid them both down and whispered sweet nothings until Louis fell asleep. Considering they're mostly strangers, however, he doesn't know what Louis wants, or if Louis even wants anything from him anymore. 

He stops breathing momentarily when Louis curls even more in his lap, his hands covering his thighs tightly. "I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna be alone," Louis hums.

He can feel Louis removing his shirt from his face, using it to dab his eyes before tossing it on the floor. His bare chest is shimmering under the iridescent lights. Harry gasps when he sees love bites littered across his collarbones and the back of his neck. They look painful, Harry notices, but quickly terminates his analysis when he feels a pang in his stomach.

"You, uh, can I get you some water?" Harry offers just to fill in the silence. 

There's tension in the air, Harry notices, or maybe it's just him; it's hard to tell. His own thoughts are becoming hazy as the wine begins to kick in for him, too. 

"I'm, um, yeah, I'd like that," Louis lets out a small yawn. 

"Be right back," Harry beams as he goes into his bedroom and retrieves a water bottle out of his min fridge. "It's sparkling."

"Expect nothing else from you, love." Louis chuckles as he wipes his eyes again. "Can we never speak of this night again?" 

"Never," Harry agrees as he opens the cap and tilts the bottle to Louis' lips. "Your secrets are and always have been safe with me." 

Louis smiles in appreciation as he unbuttons his jeans, only to remove his socks and shoes first, then sliding them down his legs. He crawls in the bed and snuggles into the blankets swiftly. "You were right about one thing – way better than any hotel. Five stars."

Harry sits on the edge, afraid if he moves any, that Louis will suddenly remember that he's there and kick him out. He knows it's irrational – Louis just complimented him on his manners, yet, he also understands there is a certain fragility that comes with the pair of them being in the same room. 

He watches Louis shift on his back, throwing a decorative pillow up in the air and catching it over and over again. His brows knit together when he trails a stray tear roll down the freckled cheeks once more. Louis must notice, he thinks, as he rapidly wipes it away with the pillow he's holding. He gives Harry a reassuring smile as the tears begin to flow once more.

"Sorry. That wine is hitting me extra hard. I haven't cried in so long; I think I needed that, anyway. I'm glad I stayed," He yawns. 

"Me too," Harry cautiously grabs Louis' arm, resting their foreheads together. "Goodnight, Lou."

"What?" Louis sits up, his legs going Indian style under the covers. "No cuddles? 4 stars!"

Harry licks his lips; a devious smile appears on his face. He unbuttons his bellbottoms and kicks off his shoes, removing his shirt and getting on top of the blanket. When Louis shoots him a 'what the heck' look, he puts his long legs under the covers.

"It just still feels prohibited," Harry admits.

"It does," Louis agrees. "But it's so nice when we get to be, huh?" He intertwines his legs in between Harry's. "I'm glad you paint your nails now."

"You encouraged me in front of the whole world, remember?" Harry laughs as Louis nods. "Paint the whole nails, you said. I only vaguely remembered it until I saw a forum about it on Tumblr."

"They're pretty. Stalking the fans again, eh?" Louis smirks at him, no apology in his voice. He lets out a long yawn as he closes his eyes briefly. "I'm trying to stay awake, but…." He yawns again.

"It's fine," Harry promises. "You don't have to rush off tomorrow, do you?"

"Not really rush, but I have a meeting at 4. I'll probably leave after breakfast," Louis contemplates. "I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna be alone," He mumbles as his chest begins to fall up and down.

Harry stays in bed a while, listening to Louis' restless sleep. He runs his fingers across his love bites tenderly, wondering if that's the reason he always wears turtlenecks in public, even in hot weather. He can't help but wonder why they're so deep like they're not made from love at all.

He didn't even consider moving until he felt his own eyes beginning to feel weighed down. With Louis asleep, he can't ask for consent to stay, so he has no choice but to leave. 

"Goodnight, Lou," He mutters in his ear as he tries to get out of the covers gracefully. Of course, with Harry, that is not possible. As he tries to remove his foot, it catches on the blanket, and he falls on the floor with a thud, ripping it from Louis' curled body.

"Sorry," He whispers in the air, noticing that Louis doesn't even move, his body still letting out small puffs of air.

Harry picks the blanket up out of the floor, gasping as he puts it back on Louis' body. He peeks under the blanket one more time, just to be sure. When he realizes it was not a mirage, he rushes to the bathroom, his stomach suddenly queasy, and he throws up its wine contents.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, brushing his teeth and using mouthwash before reentering Louis' borrowed room. He peers under the covers one more time – noticing the black, grey, and green bruises littered across his upper thighs. He sticks his lips out in a thinking manner when he sees they're in the shape of teeth marks and fingerprints. 

Breathing heavy, he decides that he will make a note of this – talk to Louis when the timing is right.

\--------

The sun peers through the window, its aura is reflecting on the wall of mirrors in the bedroom. Louis curses slightly at Harry's choice of décor, but then fondly smiles when he realizes, well, IT IS Harry's choice of décor.

He massages his temples, trying to soothe his pounding head. He looks around the room, noticing Harry's jeans on the floor beside his.

"Wait; what?" Louis scans his memories, only to not have any recollection after asking Harry to dance. "Oh, fuck!" He panics as he rushes into Harry's room. 

Harry is still asleep, his arm over his eyes. He looks as if he hadn't been to sleep long, Louis notices because his breathing isn't too deep. "Hazza!" Louis says with urgency. "Last night, did we…? Haz, wake up!" He shakes him lightly.

"Hmm?" Harry manages to reply, yawning.

"Last night, you and me, did we…did we come up and?" Louis begins to stutter. "Did we…..?"

Harry sits up and rubs his eyes. "Did we what, Lou?" 

Louis swallows thickly as he gives Harry a freaked look. "Our jeans are beside my bed."

"Oh!" Harry yawns. Louis watches as he stares at his thighs a little too long. By instinct, he looks down, gasp, and covers his bruises. 

Shit, I forgot about those!

"We just cuddled. We've never done anything like that. You're straight," He gives Louis a half-smile. "You were a bit emotional, remember?" Harry asked slowly. Louis shakes his head no as he continues to cover his thighs. Harry opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it. "You have to be in LA by 4, yeah?"

"Yeah, right," Louis says as he turns back around. "I'm just going to go shower. I'll let you go back to sleep. You look like you need it, love."

Harry doesn't lie back down. Instead, his eyes trail to the back of Louis' body. Louis can feel Harry burning holes in his thighs. When he gets inside the bathroom, he looks at himself through the various mirrors hanging up in the guest bathroom. He turns around and notices that his back legs are spread with bites and fingerprints too. He wants to tell Harry, but he can't.

How can he explain to someone who is just so open that he is ashamed of who he is? How does he admit that he lets people hurt him out of punishment? How does one say that they hate the pain, but it's the only thing that makes it okay to feel pleasure? If someone hurts themselves enough, they can't get lost in the intimacy, only feel its surface, only feel the pain. If there's no passionate connection, it's not unusual, is it? How do you tell the world that you're something else when the only option that is in your contract is… hetero?

Louis turns on the water and lets it heat up to the perfect temperature before removing his underclothes and sitting on the marbled seat in the shower. He puts his feet up and hugs his knees to his chest, enjoying the way the water is kind of soothing his migraine. As the blood courses throughout his body, he whispers the words to _Golden_ , growing wide-eyed when he recalls some of the events last night. 

"I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna be alone," He sings. "I bet he thinks I'm proper crazy," Louis scolds himself. 

He lets the water wash over him for a long while, trying to wash his thoughts down the drain too. 

\-----

He declares that perhaps this is most peaceful sleep he's had in awhile. The itch to drink is still in his brain, like a devil, it summons him. Somehow, he feels a sense of serenity, though too. It's a conundrum he can't quite piece together. He isn't even sure he wants to. That would mean admitting to longing for what he can't have.

"Morning," Harry pipes softly as he looks up from his cup of tea. 

"Morning, love," Louis joins him at his kitchen table. "Sorry again about last night."

"I'm not," Harry looks in Louis' eyes for a moment, smiling fondly. "You're the most beautiful person when you cry. It's like your tears shine like stars across your freckles."

"You've told me that before," Louis stutters. "At Princess Park." 

"Meant it then, I mean it now," Harry replies, a smug grin on his lips. "So, um, you have a meeting at 4?"

"Yeah, I, uh," Louis begins to thumb his thigh nervously. "I do." 

Harry stands up as he slowly approaches Louis. "You're always welcome here, okay? I want to be whatever you want me to be. I'm here for you. I feel so bad that I let management, Simon, everyone influenced me in the past. I'm sorry for the strain in the band."

"Don't mention it," Louis scoots slightly back. "I was a young and stupid person in the midst of all that too."

"Morning," Oli yawns as he comes from down the stairs dressed in Harry's silk pajamas.

"So, we should probably get going," He looks at Oli. "I have an appointment at 4." 

"Right," Oli says disappointed. "Thanks for letting us stay, Harry. These pajamas are heavenly."

"Don't mention it," Harry giggles. "I'll walk you guys out." 

Just before Harry can shut his front door, Oli leans over. "Thank you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly from Harry's perspective. Hope you enjoy <3 Feedback welcome!
> 
> P.S If you don't like this skin, please let me know and I'll revert back to default. I like the black background with white text but some may find it hard to read. XoXo.

Harry's only in London one more night before he has to travel to America. Between magazine shoots, televised appearances, and recording time, he feels displaced, fatigued. He should probably spend his night off resting, but he can't keep his mind wandering back to a certain tan-skinned bandmate of his. 

He pours himself a glass of kale juice and props his feet on his coffee table. He turns on the television and sighs as the silence in his house is broken. 

"Hello?" He asks as he picks up the phone.

"Hey, it's Oli. Are you doing anything right now?" Oli whispered.

"Eh, nothing too much. What about you guys?"

"Just sitting around. Are you doing anything around 4 today? Louis has an appointment I would love for him to miss," Oli breathes out in an unsure tone.

"Um....can you elaborate more?" Harry chuckles.

"Trust me, Harry. You wouldn't want him to go to this meeting," Oli asserts.

Harry signs for a moment as he wondered if his meeting has anything to do with the bruises he saw earlier. "I don't think he'd want to miss a meeting for me."

"You're the only person he'd miss a meeting for," Oli replies.

Harry smiles at the response. "You know what? I'm suddenly in the mood for swimming. You guys can come over anytime. Just come around back. I'll be waiting," He clicks the phone off and stands up - the realization of what he's agreed to hits him like a freight truck.

\-----

Louis walks toward Harry's pool with shaky hands. He hasn't had any alcohol today, much to his dismay, and the shakiness is beginning to set in. It's funny, he thinks, that the Earth vibrates whether he has it or not.

_I hope this is only temporary._

"Hey," He smiles at Harry happily. 

"Hey you," Harry walks in his direction. "Where's Oli?"

"Oli?" Louis asks confused. "He has a movie night planned with Calvin and Eleanor. He said he told you that when you called."

"Oh yeah!" Harry tries to sound like this is not new information and that Oli didn't plan this whole thing. "I'm glad you could come. I'm so excited. The water is perfect."

Harry watches as Louis' unzips his jeans, sliding them down his slender calves. He gulps when he sees the fading bruises still littering against the tan skin. 

"Great," Louis chirps as he slings his shirt to the ground and jumps in. "Come on, Hazza!"

Harry smirks as he watches Louis swim around. He bites his bottom lip when he jumps in the water. He can feel Louis' arms snake around the middle of his waist, his legs wrapping around him like a monkey. 

"Mmm," Louis hugs him closer. 

Harry can feel Louis' hands shake. He tries to hide his concern, knowing how easy it is for Louis to put up his walls. He laughs as he grabs ahold of Louis awkwardly, swinging him around to his front, their eyes connecting. Louis is still holding onto him for dear life.

"Do you have any more of that rose wine?" Louis purs in his ear.

"I do," Harry responds as he caresses Louis' cheek with his fingers. He feels Louis hop off of him, his feet planted in the water. He takes his hands, happy to share the evening with him. 

"Mind if I get some and get right back in?" Louis tries to still his hands, but it's to no avail. As much as he doesn't want to drink at the moment, something in his body, his brain is telling him to. 

Harry points to the bar he has under his awing and watches as Louis drinks straight from the bottle with ease. 

"Hey, can I ask you something?" He grabs a towel from his lounge chair. "Where'd you get those?" He rubs his fingers over the back of Louis' thighs. "These bruises look pretty nasty."

"Oh," Louis gulps as he takes another sip. "I can tell you anything, right?" He asks as Harry nods. "Well, I've kind of developed masochist behavior." 

"What, you?" Harry raises an eyebrow. "But Louis, you're so delicate and dainty under all that chav bullshit. You don't deserve that. I bet you don't even like it. You like to be petted on, told you're pretty." 

Louis' cheek glows a crimson color as Harry runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't deserve any of that though, love. I'm not technically a masochist as you have to actually enjoy it, but somehow, I feel like I deserve it."

"Do you want to know what I think you deserve?" Harry boldly questions as Louis holds his breath and closes his eyes. "This," Harry tilts Louis' face up for their eyes to meet.

His lips are inches away from Louis'. He can feel his hot breath tickling him. He feels Louis grip his love handles, the shaking still there. He tries to close the gap, but Louis turns his face making his lips plant on his cheek.

"You're too sweet, Harry," Louis hugs him tightly before swimming away.

\-----

They swim until the sun begins to set over the horizon. Drying off their hair, they watch as the blue painted sky becomes replaced with hues pink and mandarin. Harry can only think of one thing that even compares to the scenery right now, and that's the person who has his head on his shoulder.

"Let's go in," He breaks the silence. "I'll have Cassidy whip us up some steak and potatoes."

"Oh my god," Louis groans. "That sounds so heavenly. Another 5 stars!" He folds his towel and places it in the hamper. "I just realized I am an idiot and didn't bring any clothes." 

"Don't worry," Harry dismisses as he takes Louis' hand and guides him into the house. "Do you know that guest room you stayed in? Check the closet," he laughs.

"What are you on about, Styles?" Louis entertains him as curiosity gets the best of him. He opens the double doors as his face lights up. 

Inside, he sees familiar clothes. It's outfits that he hasn't seen in years. Black jeans, colorful jumpers, plain tees, an assortment of clothing he used to wear back when he and Harry were in a boy-band. 

"Wow," Louis coos. "Even my plaid pajamas! My apple logo shirt. Do you remember the stir that caused?"

"You still say that all the time," Harry laughs as he mocks Louis. "You're straight, you swear." 

"Well, I am," Louis playfully hits him in the stomach. "Wouldn't want to piss off Daddy Simon again, now would we?" 

Harry grimaces as he rubs his fingers up and down Louis' arms and turns him around. He puts their foreheads together as he sighs heavily, his chest rising and falling in the frustration. 

"Louis."

"I'm hungry, yeah?" Louis pushes past him and makes his way back down the stairs. He opens the pantry and walks toward the wine cellar, reading every label trying to find the bottle with the highest contest. "Ah, here we go. Chardonnay. Lovely."

"Wait!" Harry calls after him. He takes the bottle from Louis' hand and replaces it with his phone.

[Thayre]: Hey it's past 4. Are we still on for our meeting? Have so much planned for us. Quick and painful, just how you like Xo.

"Use me instead," Harry begs. "Don't use these sleazy business moguls. Please, Louis! Use me."

"Good one, love," Louis puts his phone in his pocket and walks out of the pantry, trying to find a bottle opener. "This pairs well with steak, eh?"

"Louis," Harry grabs the wine out of his hand again. "We're going to eat dinner and then we're going to go upstairs, right?" Harry's tone turns from friendly to demanding, and Louis can tell he means business. 

"Sure thing, love," Louis takes the bottle back and sits it on the dining room table. 

"We're going to go upstairs and nobody is going to know about it. You're safe here. Nobody will know. You don't have to be straight, don't have to be gay. You don't even have to be a chav. All I want is for you to be Louis." 

Louis giggles as Harry takes his hands in his and thumbs over his "E" tattoo. He feels butterflies grow in the pit of his stomach, but his throat closing tight at the same time. Harry laughs when the tattoo begins to rub off as Louis winks at him. _Sharpie_.

The last time he tried to take a bite of this forbidden fruit, they were punished to live in damnation forever. Is Harry's mansion the garden of Eden? His hand swirls with negative scenarios, but his heart burst with happy symphonies at the same time. He realizes he hasn't felt this way since....well, he was allowed to be himself.

He realizes at this moment - his soul is dying.

\-----

"That was the best meal I've had in so long," Louis smiles satisfied. "I'm proud of myself too. Only had 3 glasses of wine tonight."

"I'm proud of you, too," Harry beams at him. "Let's go upstairs now."

"Me 'uppose I am feeling a bit tired. I'll give that an oi oi," Louis affirms as he sits up and bows at the chef for the delicious meal. "So, you're leaving tomorrow, eh? How long are you gonna be in America?"

"Probably two weeks or so," Harry guides him up the stairs. "What are your plans?"

"Oh, you know, just hang around writing songs and take a 'mental health break' as Simon calls it," Louis rolls his eyes. "He's the one who needs his head checked."

"Agreed," Harry laughs as he guides Louis into his bedroom.

Louis' in awe at the crystal chandelier and fairy lights in front of him. Harry's walls are painted a soft baby pink with yellow, blue, and white furniture. It's quite a contrast from Princess Park when their house was decorated in greys and beige. 

"This is so you, love," He squeaks as he jumps on the bed and splays out like a starfish. "This is why I take all the brute work, you know? That way you can be yourself and not have to worry about answering to anyone." 

Harry hums as he puts on soft background music. He inches toward Louis and bravely straddles him without saying a word. Louis' throat suddenly feels dry, his mind feeling helpless.

"I can take care of myself, Louis. Don't listen to them so much. We're not in the band anymore," Harry kisses his cheek softly as he looks up at him, pinning his wrist to the bed. Louis closes his eyes, not sure if he's able to control his desire. 

"I meant what I said what I want you to use me, Louis. We are not strangers. I hate we have to act like it. Please, don't deny this chemistry," Harry kisses his wrist lightly.

"That's a fine line, Haz. I can't get intermeshed with you again. It was too hard to transition back last time," Louis dismisses the idea. "It almost broke me, almost broke the band."

"I remember," Harry admits. "But look at you!" He slinks off Louis' torso as he slowly slides down his pajamas and rubs his fingers over the bruises. "This is not okay! Masochist, my ass!" 

"I consent to this. I beg them for it!" Louis shouts. "If they hurt me, then it's not emotional!"

"What?" Harry questions, confused. "What's not emotional, Lou?"

"I still have needs, you know? I still want the touch of someone else, but I just don't want it to be emotional. That's all! I just like to feel the pain. I deserve it. Simon, Modest! Everyone wants me to sell the hetero narrative, so I do, and this is the only way I know how! That doesn't mean I don't want to feel skin to skin, too! I want people to think I'm attractive enough to take to bed, but I can't return those feelings. If they hurt me, maybe they don't notice."

Harry scoots closer to Louis, running the palm of his hand down his thigh. "But you are emotional, Louis! You cry over puppies, sad movies, and love. You don't deserve this. This isn't you. Use me, then!" 

"Harry," Louis breaths out as Harry brings him in his lap. Harry begins to rub small circles on his back as Louis straddles his waist tightly. "You know, we just aren't who we used to be."

"No," Harry replies. "We are in control of our own lives now, well at least more than we were," He whispers in his ear. "And I want you to use me." He places his hands on Louis' hips, rocking them back and forth. "You don't have to go looking to be hurt. I won't ever hurt you, and I don't want to. I'm not asking for any label, anything in return, anything at all. I just want you to use me, so you don't have to them." He feels Louis slightly move without being prompted.

Louis swallows thickly as he puts his head in the crook of Harry's neck, holding onto the back of the couch as he gyrates his hips. Harry runs one hand through Louis' hair, massaging small circles in his scalp. He cautiously runs his fingers down Louis' spine, hooking his shirt between his fingers and removing the white tee. He then straightens his body and does the same with his own grey Gucci blouse, leaving his jeans on.

Louis puts one hand on top of Harry's, making his hair taut as he causes Harry to pull it roughly. Harry flattens his fingers, not cooperating. He shifts his body in a down laying position, causing Louis to crawl on top of him.

"You said I can use you," Louis begs.

"You can," Harry whispers in his ear.

"Then why aren't you pulling my hair?" Louis growls.

Louis grinds on top of Harry, the friction of his jeans vibrating his legs. Harry notices how the fabric is pulling at Louis' thigh hairs, so he kicks them off himself. He looks deep into the blue irises, asking his app to play Golden for them just like the first time visiting.

Louis' mouth flies open as he sits up, his groin pressing into Harry's as he circles his hips. Harry grabs ahold of both his hands, scaffolding him in place. Harry closes his eyes for a second, feeling the energy and connection rush through his body. Louis is beginning to pick up the pace. Harry notices that Louis is feeling it too.

Louis positions Harry's hands around his throat, putting his own on top and squeezing tightly. Harry watches as his cheeks become redder, his blue eyes a little faded to grey. Harry flips them to where he's on top, in control. He lays down on top of Louis, staring directly into his soul. 

He notices how Louis' eyes have a galaxy of their own. In this twilight, he can see how at any second, they're going to be pulled into a mysterious planet just the two of them know. When Louis' mouth falls open, his teeth beaming through the shadows cast from the moon, Harry thinks he has made it to the milky way.

"I'm going to let go," Harry says, removing pressure from his throat. "But I want you to use me," Harry whispers in his ear as he begins to make slow movements on top of Louis. "I want to try something, okay?" He asked for permission as Louis nods, his pupils looking like saucers. Harry bends down and catches his earlobe between his teeth, massaging it gently with his tongue. He hears Louis holding back small pants when he rakes his teeth along the edges.

He licks down Louis' protruding vein, nibbling at blue bruises before sliding up to his jawline. "This, I remember," Harry whispers over the music. "Is the real spot."

Louis whines and lurches forward when Harry sucks on the stubble grazing his jaw. He bends his fingers into Harry's back, creating small nail indentions as he scratches down out of instincts. Before he knows it, his hands are on the arm of the couch, his body steadily sliding up and down Harry's.

Louis cries out as Harry continues to lick his jaw.

Taken back by Louis' sudden shift of his body, Harry smirks as he trails down Louis' torso. He tastes the middle letters of his chest tattoo before following a roadmap down to his navel. He can feel Louis' stiffen under him, his body slowing down. He can feel Louis rubbing his body against the sharp points of his rings. Angry, red cuts litter across his chest. He looks up at him with his emerald eyes, waiting on Louis to give him a hint of what he wants.

Louis, his mouth still open, tugs on Harry's back. Harry retreats without hesitation, staring at his lips, but confusing himself when Louis turns away as if he's requesting something else. Harry runs his fingers through his hair, tugging as he sucks on his neck vein once again.

"Do you still want to leave?" Harry asks, out of breath.

"Want to hurt," Louis begs, pushing Harry's teeth deep into his skin. 

Not wanting to comply, Harry relaxed his jaw, removing his head and replacing his thumb on the redness of Louis' neck. "Why?" 

"Thought you said I could use you," Louis complained as he needily pushed Harry down on his back and climbing on top of him. He placed his hands behind him on either side of Harry's thighs and allowed his head to naturally rollback. "Hurt me." 

"No," Harry protests again. "Do what you want with me, Lou, but I can't hurt you. You don't even want me to, not really. You just want me here - like I want you here." 

"Always been such a tease," Louis rolls his eyes as he hops off Harry's legs. "It was nice reconnecting with you again, Harry. I'll see you again next year, maybe." 

"Next year?" Harry's eyes grow wide, anger flashing in his eyes. "Typical." He swallows thickly. "I'm here when you need me," He scoops Louis' pajamas from his floor and throws them in his direction. "I'll call you a cab." 

"No need," Louis pulls his pants over his bruised thighs. "Watch the news tonight. Maybe I'll be on it again for finding someone who will hurt me," He slams the door, power walking out of Harry's yard.

Watching artwork rattle, Harry sighs as he picks up Louis' sweater, hugging it up to his chest and inhaling the smoky scent. He walks to his window, watching a shirtless Louis turn back around, open the door and snatch the weather out of his hands to only slam the door once more in Harry's face.

"Man, I can hate you sometimes," Harry mutters when Louis is out of earshot.

\-----

Though the jetlag is severe, Harry is excited to be in the studio today.

The symphony inside Harry's heart begins to echo inside his mind. He can hear the individual chords of something beautiful vibrating into the universe, but he can't quite hear the resolution. 

With one more mental strum, he thinks, that this groovy sound is relishing. Perhaps he's creating a sonnet the world is ready to hear. The difficulty, however, is admitting to the world, himself, that he's found himself while his love is trapped in that glass closet still.

Harry puts his thumb on the roof of his mouth, looking down as he smiles. "I have an idea for a song!" He declares. 

"Really?" Mitch asks excitedly. "You've had writer's block for weeks!"

"I know, but last night, Louis and I...." 

His bandmates look at him, all silent and rapidly blinking their eyes.  
"Louis….?" Mitch holds his hand out in confusion. "The one on the news for binge drinking?"

"It's more complicated than that, but yes," Harry blushes. 

"He's adorable," Sarah interjects. "But doesn't he have like an influencer girl-friend or something?"

Harry scoffs, tilting his head back. "You guys aren't directioners, are you?" He asked as they all say 'no' in sync. "Okay, well, Louis and I used to live together. We loved each other very much. We never kissed or anything, but we have cuddled…a lot….and almost kissed, I guess? Almost kissed lots of time. Okay, we've kissed a couple of times, but we're supposed to erase that."

"Finish the story, Harry," Ny Oh rushes him. "You're rambling again."

"Okay, okay. We always confessed our love, but contracts got in the way. They brainwashed Louis into thinking being gay is going to ruin our careers, and he never looked back," Harry frowns. "He moved out, got a girl-friend, stopped all the banter with me. That's a long story short, I suppose."

"And you're now seeing each other, why?" Charlotte asks curiously.

"To hangout…um, he's not well," Harry gulps. "I've been helping him with some things."

"Can you do these things with clothes on?" Adam raises an eyebrow.

"You guys are missing the point of this conversation! You're supposed to tell me that Louis is my destiny and that all I have to do is keep trying, and he'll come around," Harry says as he crosses his arm.

"We just care about you," Sarah says, patting his back soothingly. "Don't want to see you hurt. If it's okay for you to be who you are, why isn't it okay for him to be who he is? Makes no sense."

"Niall told me once that Louis took on all the responsibility. That way, I didn't have to," Harry says meekly.

"Wait, wait!" Charlotte stands up and twirls around the room. "Louis gave up his freedom for this guy right here. He's probably the one suffering the most. He can't even be himself, so Harry can," She wipes a tear from her eye. "That's beautiful, Harry."

"The fans call him the Sun," He continues. "Anyway, the song. Imagine being in a club and not feeling comfortable in your skin. Imagine having a voice in your head questioning your every move," Harry strums on his guitar. "I have a few sentences written." 

_All the lights couldn't put out the dark  
Running through my heart  
Lights up and they know who you are  
Know who you are  
Do you know who you are? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year has been very difficult for me, for all of us. I am glad that reading gives people a moment to escape into a new world. I hope you're able to do this with this fic. Thanks for allowing me to be in the fandom and not judging. We get a lot of hate us Larries, but we still believe in what we want to. 
> 
> "Strength is standing up for what you believe even when the world is throwing stones."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Trigger warning, maybe?- I'm never good at these things. It turns cute though :)

It isn't long before Louis can feel the ground beneath his Adidas shoes become unsteady. He feels like he's on a carousel that never stills. It's familiar, that feeling that he hates and loves it all the same. He leans on the arm of Calvin, disappointed that Oli is unavailable tonight - disappointed even more so to learn Oli was available but refused to participate in this anymore. 

His appointment (as he likes to title it) was a 6'0, dark-haired man with green eyes and sunkissed skin. He dressed to impress, Louis noticed, and he hoped he'd be able to take him to another dimension. 

"What did you say your name is again?" Louis asks, a small stutter escaping his lips. 

"Arthur," The guy responds eagerly.

Louis decides to twirl around his wristband nervously. "Hmm," he contemplates the words. "What do you think of him?" Louis asks quietly in Calvin's ear. 

"I think your temporary hair dye is about to run down your face," He teases. "How was Harry's last night?"

Tonight, Louis decides that violet hair with silver bangs and aviator glasses is just enough to hide his identity. He's dressed in a Burberry sweater and a clip-on earring to match. 

"Eh, it was fine. Ended on a sour note, though," Louis sighs as he gazes at his man of interest and downs two shots. "One to remember, one to forget," he mutters.

He sways over to the man under the strobe light and smiles when he doesn't see a ring finger. He swings his hips deviously and stands in front of the silhouette. 

"What's your astrology sign?" Louis asked confidently. 

"Aquarius. And yours?"

"Mine?" Louis scoffs. "Oh, please, love. You don't want to get to know me. I'm not looking for one of those things."

"Arthur."

"Linus," Louis blurts out and almost cackles at himself. "Do me a favor." 

He looks back at Calvin, who has his head on the barstool in annoyance and stands in front of the brute man. His body feels tired of this repetitive high that he's chasing, and he knows he can't do this much longer, but he reasons that he has enough strength for at least one more round this week.

He feels Arthur grip his waist. He flinches for a second before relaxing into the touch. Memories of Harry invade his mind - sweet, decadent memories. Recollections of a touch hot enough to melt his weary soul. Yet, here he is again, putting himself in an arctic fortress. 

"Strong," Louis compliments in his ear. "You looking for company? Mansion in the hills," He brags. 

It's all so carbon copy, he realizes. He uses the same pickup lines, feels the same ground shaking, continues to get his records taken from him; his individuality; his sanity, and he just continues down the same destructive path. 

"Mansion in the hills, huh?" Arthur screams over the music. "What did you have planned we do there?"

"Well, you have to work for it. You see, my friend over there has me on lock-down. He's under strict orders to not let me leave without him tonight, but I have an itch I think you can scratch," Louis licks his lips. 

"What does that entail?" Arthur bites as he pulls Louis' closer. 

"Oh, well, how about you get me out of here and find out?"

\-----

"Oh, fuck," Louis sighs in Arthur's mouth as he straddles him in the backseat of Louis' Porsche. "Just like that."

He bites Arthur's bottom lip as he feels Arthur's hand graze down his back and play with the hemline of his back pocket. 

"Like this?" Arthur grunts as he holds Louis' closer. 

All Louis can reply is a small moan as he feels his previous shots kick in more. It feels like the car is moving, Louis thinks as Arthur holds him closer.

"Sorry," Arthur states as he suddenly opens the car door. 

Louis blinks as he tries to make sense of the situation. He hears a rustling noise, feels cold air hit his half-exposed back, and sees a blur of lights passing him by. He notices that someone is in the driver's seat, someone who must've snuck in the car. Before any logical explanation enters his mind, he realizes that something is very wrong as his entire existence turns black. 

_Fans are sending good vibes and prayers to Louis Tomlinson tonight. The former One Direction star was rushed to a local hospital after he was thrown from a car in what appeared to be a mugging incident. The extend of his injuries is unknown at this time. This just comes weeks after he was hospitalized for exhaustion and alcoholism._

"I see you took my advice with a grain of salt," Nurse Emma gripes as she draws the curtains. "Still yet, your baby face makes me feel sorry for you."

"It hurts," Louis puts his arm over his eyes. "Hurts so bad." He tries to sit up.

"You need to lie still dear," Nurse Emma fluffs his pillow. "We're still determining the extent of your injuries. You're lucky the car wasn't moving very fast."

"Bloody hell," He breathes in. "Car?"

"Lie still," Emma repeats as she leaves the room and comes back with medication. "Here, this will help you sleep. The police will be here soon for a statement."

Louis nods his head as he instantly feels a burning in his veins. His mind sees flashes as he tries to make sense of the whole ordeal. 

"Fank you," Louis croaks as his mind goes blank.

"We did a full STD panel on you. Luckily for you, you're clean. If you keep this up, you're going to be in club 27." She states as Louis' begins to drift away.

\-----

Louis is shocked awake by the sudden shift in gravity. His eyes fly open to see Oli sitting on the edge of his bed, and Calvin sleeping in a chair beside the bed. He wants to run away and hide, ashamed of being admitted to the hospital so soon again, He wants to apologize, but he has a lump in his throat that won't let him speak.

His pupils retract against the harsh lights and create a blurry scene. He makes out a very dark blue, almost black uniform. There are two men in front of him. One is older with kind, wrinkled eyes and the other seems like all he does is work out at the gym. 

"Mr. Tomlinson," The older one extends his hand. "I'm Officer Green. This is Officer Moore. We have a few questions for you."

"Okay," Louis croaks as he tries to sit up but the pain in his rib makes him cry out. Oli gives him a sympathetic smile and pushes the button on the bed that assists with his task.

"We understand you were the victim of a mugging. Someone ejected you from a moving vehicle, is that correct?" Officer Moore pulls a chair up beside Louis. 

Louis grits his teeth at the sound of chalkboard on the tile he heard at his last stay. "Me 'uppose so, yeah."

"Can you spare any information of how you met the assailant? Any distinct features?" Officer Green begins writing things on a notepad.

"Um, well, I met him at Club Violet. He seemed nice enough. He said he was an Aquarius. He was tall, had green eyes. Proper fit," Louis nods. "Said his name was Arthur. There was another man though. Fuck!" The realization hits Louis. "Someone stole me car! The one time Sam doesn't drive me. FUCK!"

"Well, we found your car wrecked on the west side of London, but the assailants must've fled on foot. So, after the club, you went willing with Arthur?" Officer Moore interrogated.

"Yes. I snuck out of the back. I didn't tell my bodyguard or Calvin. I just wanted to have a little fun in the back seat of the parking lot," Louis shrugs. 

"There will be no further questions, gentlemen," Simon power walks in and holds up his hand. "If you need any more info, please contact my lawyer," He retrieves a card out of his coat pocket and hands it to the Officers as they exit out the door.

"Oh for fucks sake," Louis whispers under his breath. "They're just doing their job, Mate." 

"And I'd like it if you did yours," Simon snaps. "Louis, I gotta be honest with you. This is beginning to become quite rubbish. I don't agree with your choices. You're being utterly disrespectful and shitting on your record labels advice."

"Simon, listen," Louis is gracious that Oli provides him with a glass of water. "I'm going through some shit, okay?"

"Well, I'd like it if you can figure it out," Simon hands Louis a document. "This is your contract. Your appearance is everything, Louis. One more stunt with a male and you will be released from your contract, plus owe the fees we've invested in you. Understood?"

"Understood," Louis rolls his eyes.

Simon gives Louis a sharp look before turning around and stands by the door. "Do get better, Louis. Believe it or not, I care about you."

The tension in the room feels thick in the air. Louis tries to swing his legs over the bed, but the pain radiating in his spine causes him to yelp suddenly. Oli jumps up and puts him back in a vertical position. Calvin pulls the blanket up to his neck.

Louis' lips begin to quiver as the realization hits him. He takes in a ragged breath and blows air in his cheeks before the tears shimmy down his face. He holds onto his chest and turns his face turn the pillow in embarrassment. Oli takes his hand and puts his face on Louis' blanket, covering the fact that he too just became emotional. 

"I was so worried," Oli says through the sniffles. 

"I feel like it's my fault," Calvin admits. He puts his face on Louis' bed as he weeps. "I should've followed you, but I - I."

Louis wraps one arm around Calvin and the other around Oli's back. "I'm such a shit friend. I'm so sorry."

\-----

After spending several days in the hospital, Louis is sent home with a prescription for painkillers, anti-inflammatories, and bandages wrapped around his ribs and left knee. He was relieved to hear he suffered no permanent brain damage, just a minor concussion from when his head hit the pavement.

Weeks passed away with much of the same. Louis ignored the most text and phone calls from his family. His sister Lottie insisted that she help him through his traumatic experience, but per usual, he dismissed her offer citing she needed to work on her company in Malibu. Instead, he decided, all he needed was to rest and maybe Oli's company now and then.

Clifford puts his head on his lap and whimpers as Louis cries out in pain as he tries to reach the television remote. He pats the curly fur soothingly as he gives up on the task at hand. 

He hears a small knock on his door. He tries to act as he wasn't struggling with a simple task like reaching his remote, but his face is flushed. He's even more embarrassed when he sees a silhouette of Harry standing in front of him with a box of pizza and soda. Shame grows deep in his gut when he remembers storming out of his house. 

"Hey," Harry says softly. 

"Hey," Louis replies with uncertainty.

Harry inches closer to Louis and pulls the tv tray over to the bed. He puts a slice of pizza on a paper plate and sits it in front of Louis. "I can hear your stomach growling from here."

"You're my guardian angel," Louis happily sighs as he samples the pizza. 

"Are you okay?" Harry asks as he opens a can of coca-cola and places a straw in the top. 

"I am now," Louis answers truthfully. "I'm surprised you came. I treated you like shit, Harry. I'll never forgive myself!"

"I pushed you too far, Louis. You don't want me like that, not anymore, and I just wouldn't drop it. I just love you, dammit! I'm glad you're okay," Harry closes his eyes as a tear escapes the corner. "After seeing you on the news, _again_ , I realized I've been chasing a ghost. I mean, I have your tour clothes from years ago in my guest room!" He chuckles at himself. "We're friends, and that's all. The script was written and I could not change a thing," He recalls.

Louis opens his mouth to speak, but Harry continues his narrative. "I'll always be here for you, Louis, and I promise you I won't hurt you anymore. I won't push you to be something you're not; feel something you don't. I'm going to be here like you need me to be, not like I want you to be." 

Louis gives the rest of his slice of pizza to Clifford and tries to inch toward Harry despite the growing pain in his ribs. Harry notices the gesture and scoots closer to him, taking his greasy hands in his own. Louis drops Harry's hands and opts to embrace him around his neck instead.

He breathes in the scent of coconut and exotic, smoky cedar. He realizes that this smell is the only fragrance that takes his breath away; this familiar, intoxicating aroma is where he wants to live forever. His belly feels hot and taut with embers glowing inside, his body bursting with radiance. He's so happy to be in these tattooed arms. He's so overwhelmed that he's sobbing into Harry's neck. 

Harry detaches himself from Louis' face, laying the tan-skinned fragile man down gently, and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear. 

"Soda makes me emotional," Louis jokes, mocking himself from earlier adventures.

"I know," Harry laughs as he begins to cry. "I was so fucking worried about you, Louis. So fucking worried! I just got you back in my life consistently, and it was almost taken from me. I understand you know? I was stalked by someone before. It makes you feel unsafe." 

"My insurance is going to cover my car," Louis mutters out as he tries to change the subject. "I think I'm done with clubbing for a while. I have no stranger danger radar, do I?" 

"Not so much," Harry answers truthfully as he thumbs at Louis' palm. "I don't want you to think this is weird or anything, but do you think you'd like to go to LA with me? I'm set to record later this week and would love the company. You can even stay at your house there if you want and I can come to visit. I don't want to be away from you that long. I'm a better nurse than I am a host."

"I give you 5 stars already for this house call," Louis beams as he wipes his tears on his sleeve. "Give me a cuddle, yeah? I fucking need one!" 

"Alright," Harry obliges in a stupor. He toes off his shoes and lays sideways beside Louis. He stares deep into the aquamarine irises and bites his bottom lip at the awestruck. 

"What are you thinking about?" Louis questions absentmindedly. 

"How you always get your way," Harry giggles. "One look into your eyes or that dazzling smile and you have men eating out of the palm of your hand. You're a temptress and don't even know it." 

Louis gleams at the compliment. "That means a lot coming from you, Mr. Harry Styles the heartbreaker. The one Taylor Swift supposedly wrote a whole album about. The one Kendall Jenner supposedly lost her virginity to. The one Camille Rowe allowed to hold her purse." 

Harry looks down at the ground for a second before deciding to scoot closer to Louis. "You know what I was doing during all those times?" He traces the outline of Louis' bottom lip with his finger. "Stealing kisses from you." 

"I don't recall that," Louis blinks his eyes breathlessly. "What did it feel like?" 

Harry looks as if he saw a phantom in front of him. It's someone he hasn't seen in years; a man who had been chipped away piece by piece until there wasn't left. A man that used to give him small touches, glances, and whisper, but suddenly acted as if he was a stranger.

"It felt," Harry stops mid-sentence and notices that Louis isn't inhaling, just waiting patiently with his eyes closed. Louis cautiously grips Harry's cheeks, pulling them together and closing the gap. Harry sighs at the sudden invasion but quickly invites the unexpected guest in his mouth.

Louis tugs Harry forward, their bodies collide as he lets out a yelp at the sudden pain in his ribs. Harry pulls away quickly, immediately feeling guilty for hurting Louis, but Louis doesn't care. He doesn't care that everything hurts in his body, because at this moment, right here, right now:

His heart doesn't.

"Don't stop," Louis begs as he lunges ahead, changing positions to where he's on top, and supports his body weight with his wrist that is digging into the mattress. He hooks their lips back together drinking every ounce of Harry's oxygen in his lungs.

Harry utilizes the moment to run his fingers through Louis' sweaty fringe with one hand while the other helps him stay upright, wanting to get lost in the moment, but the anxiety of Louis' injuries overtaking his thoughts. Louis doesn't allow that, however; instead, he decides to pull on Harry's cross necklace..

"Fuck!" He flinches again as his fist bangs with the mattress. 

"Louis," Harry sits up and rubs his index finger over his lips. "I quite enjoyed that." 

"Then don't stop." 

"You're hurt," Harry reminds him as he places his back with the wall and pulls Louis to his chest. "How about we cuddle and watch rom-coms, huh?"

"Hmm," Louis traces Harry's mermaid tattoo. "Alright then, Harold. Can you grab the remote? I'm struggling today.."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm proud of myself for the consistent updates LoL. I appreciate the response so far. I've been watching Larry videos and noticed they're like pringles, can't watch just one. I'm on the weird part of youtube <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Smirks*  
> Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes  
> Tingle running through my bones  
> The boys and the girls are in  
> I mess around with him  
> And I'm OK with it
> 
> I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it  
> And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you... (ride it)
> 
> If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive  
> You got that salt, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it

"You're glowing!" Charlotte squeals. "Harry, you're fucking glowing!" 

"I have new lyrics," He beams as he opens his journal and flips through the pages. "I don't have a melody yet, but I'm thinking of something like a throwback, groovy, and just feel good vibe!" 

Mitch reaches out and grabs his guitar. "Slow down, Tiger, and give us some context."

"You've been seeing him again, haven't you?" Ny Oh taps him on the shoulder. "The hot mess hottie."

"Well," Harry blushes as his dimples pop out. "Yes!"

"Alright then," Adam grabs his bass. "Let's write a song." 

_You don't have to say you love me_  
You don't have to say nothing  
You don't have to say you're mine 

\-----

Louis crosses his legs as he sits Indian style inside his house in Calabasas. He thinks of how much money he's invested in the property and shakes his head. He's hardly here, he thinks, and he was pressured into buying it to keep in Simon's good graces.

"I think I want to sell this," He looks at Oli. 

"Yeah. I mean if you need to stay somewhere for business, there's always Harry's, right?" Oli states as he scrolls through his phone. "I support that decision." 

"Fanks," Louis smiles as he gets up and dusts off his jeans. "You going out tonight?"

"I think so, yeah. It's been a while since I've had an American burger," Oli pats his stomach. "What about you?"

"Harry wants me to come over so he can show me a demo of a song he's recording today," Louis states as he plays with his fringe. "I'm proper excited."

"You know what?" Oli scoots closer to him, the tone in the room suddenly turning serious. "You've worked very hard these past few weeks."

"Oh, stop," Louis hides his face in his hands in embarrassment.

"No, Louis. I'm serious. You deserve the praise. You've been attending therapy, staying in. The shaking in your hands has finally subsided. You even look younger somehow. You've fought for your mental health." 

"Well, I appreciate it," Louis uncrosses his legs and walks toward his friend. "Fanks for not leaving me, especially after you know, wrecking my Porsche and the media tarnishing my name."

"Ah, fuck them. I know the real you," Oli winks at him. "And the rest of the world will know soon enough."

\-----

Harry splays a blanket out on the floor and pats it gently. Louis crawls over to him like a Persian cat in heat. He arches his back and climbs up on Harry's torso.

Harry thinks that this is reminiscent of the Louis he fell in love with: a carefree spirit who made him fall in love the moment he jumped in his arms on the X-Factor. 

"How was the recording session?" Louis asks as he hooks their hands together. 

"The band swears this will be a breakout single," Harry brags. "It's about just loving someone for who they are and not needing a label for it."

"Ah, interesting," Louis ponders. "Want to play it for me?"

"I'd love to!" Harry unlaces his fingers from Louis' and grabs the voice memo from his phone as the words to _Adore You_ fill the air. 

Louis bats his eyelashes at him and smiles sweetly as he hears the lyrics. He puts his hands on Harry's shoulder to anchor himself and uses his muscles to bend down and lick the bridge of Harry's nose. Harry cries out in sudden invasion as he considers his counterattack.

"You're going to regret that," Harry teases as he pushes Louis off of him, picks him up, and twirls him around. Before he knows it, the pair of them are crashing back on the blanket breathing heavily. 

"I'm waiting on the part where I regret this," Louis sighs into Harry's mouth as he attaches their lips. 

There is a lightness to the air. Harry feels like he's floating out in outer space trying to explore new planets. He slithers his hands down the small of Louis' back, his hands finding cadence in Louis' jeans pockets as he squeezes seductively. 

Louis swallows thick as he withdraws the kiss, his eyes lulling closed. Besides kissing, he hasn't shared an intimate moment with anyone since before the accident. He can only think of the last time he shared a moment with someone that didn't involve pain, but just raw emotion; and the only time that came to mind was with Harry long ago, but still, it was just a fleeting moment that management halted. 

Harry breathes into his mouth waiting on Louis to choose a path at the crossroads. Is he going to stop or continue down this route? He's so unpredictable, Harry thinks, that he can't even guess what Louis is going to do. 

His pupils turn into saucers when Louis hooks his fingers on the hemline of Harry's blouse and slips it off his head. With nervous hands, Louis unfastens the button on Harry's Gucci jeans and slips them down his legs. Harry puts both his hands on Louis' shoulders in neediness, grabbing at anything and nothing at all.

"Lou," Harry cries out, his mouth parting open.

Louis wills away the voices over the years telling him that if he were to start something romantic with Harry, he'd destroy the both of them. How can it be wrong to want this perfection? People search the ends of the earth for this, and here it is within his grasp. It can't be wrong. It just doesn't make sense when all he feels is his soul enkindling into an ethereal state. 

He kisses down Harry's swallows, licks his way down to his butterfly wings, finding refuge at his navel as he sends Harry's abs fluttering in the waves. Harry grabs at Louis' shirt, tugging it impatiently as he licks his lips at the healthier man.

"Yes," Harry wails out. 

Louis noses at Harry's hair descending his stomach, teasing him slowly. Harry bucks his hips in anticipation. 

"Do you want me to pull your hair?" Harry mutters as he fishes for Louis' head. Louis declines the offer as Harry breathes in thankfulness that Louis can enjoy the moment and admit he never had a kink for pain outside the tattoo gun.

"Fuck!" He groans as Louis strips his boxers down his legs taking his erection in his hands before sucking on his head gently. "Louis!"

"Hmm?" Louis hums as he breathes through his nostrils. 

"Your mouth," He stutters. "I love it." 

"Mmmhmm," Louis agrees as he tightens his grip on Harry's shaft and uses his hand to pull the skin taut. 

Harry can feel a band tighten in his belly as he moves his hips rhythmically to Louis' pace. He runs his fingers through Louis' fringe, his eyes closed as he sees nebulas and constellations of stars burning behind his auras. His body feels hot, his toes curl, and he lets out a satisfied gasp as his body releases the impending explosion of a galaxy far away. 

"Hey, I brought home burg..." Oli stands mortified in the doorway. "Okay, so, I'm just going to go in the kitchen now." 

Louis quickly removes himself from Harry, giggling as he collides their foreheads together. Too awestruck to even care, Harry fans out his arms as the blood rushes back to his face. 

"Come to think of it, I am hungry," He laughs as Louis agrees. 

Harry rushes to his room and slips on clothing as Louis puts his shirt back over his head and folds the blanket before tossing it on the couch. He enters the couch to see Oli stare at him awkwardly. 

"Sorry, Lad," he laughs with a maroon face.

"I didn't see anything," Oli laughs as he takes a bite of his burger. "I'm just glad you still had your pants on. I just saw your back. However, I did _hear_ things."

"Shut up, Mate!" Louis playfully punches his arm as he opens the wrapper to his burger. 

"I'm starving," Harry strolls in as he bites Louis' arm.

"And on that note, I'm gone," Oli surrenders as he takes his burger to his guest room.

\------

Louis swivels around in his chair nervously as he sees all the platinum-selling records hanging at the Syco studio. He scratches a few notes on a pad that the company provided to him before clearing his throat.

"I would like to thank everyone for meeting with me today. I've like to start the minutes with news that I'm kindly asking to be released from my contract," Louis bites on the tip of his pen.

Simon and his colleagues look at one another baffled. "Louis, this is a waste of time."

"I signed with you almost 10 years ago!" Louis sits up in his chair. "I'm the only one of the mates that stuck around with you after the hiatus. They all went with different labels, but I remained loyal. Why? Well, I didn't have a choice! Give me a choice now!" 

"Louis, listen," Simon leans forward. "Almost 10 years ago is not 10 years ago. Therefore, you still have time under me. If you give me one album, I'll release you." 

"But you won't let me make it," Louis huffs out. 

"No. You won't let you make it," Simon spots back. "One album. That's it, Louis." 

"Fucking Christ," Louis throws his hands in the air. "Mark, help me out here."

"I can't muddle through the red tape right now," Mark whispers to Louis. 

"Can you ever?" Louis sasses as he begins to swivel his chair again. "So, basically, I do everything you want. you use me, and then you'll dispose of me. Love the support, gentlemen. Fanks." 

Simon huffs as he tears his glasses off of his face. "I'd like to tell you to watch your tone, Louis. This is getting ridiculous. Did you enjoy Harry's attire for the met gala? His black dress sure was stunning on him. I'd hate to tell Sony that it's ruining his womanizer image, wouldn't you?"

Louis bites back the urge to give Simon the middle finger as he puts his elbow on the table, his head in his hand. "Yes sir."

\------

Louis feels himself going to a dark place again. It's suffocating his inner peace, extinguishing the bit of hope he's found, and destroying his ability to think clearly.

He rummages through Harry's pantry as he tries not to bump into his American chef, Oscar. He asks the man if he will reach a bottle of gin on the top shelf as the man graciously obliges. 

He gets ice out of the refrigerator and sighs as he pours the liquor in the cup. He sits down at the barstool and makes a toast to the air. He sees Simon's snarky face flash in his mind as he downs the shot. 

"Louis?" Harry embraces him from behind as he smells his hair. He notices the distinct smell of cigarettes and sweat. "Did you have a hard day, Boobear?" He discreetly takes the bottle and hands it to Oscar to put back on the shelf. 

"You've no idea," Louis leans his head back on Harry's welcoming shoulder. "Simon gets under my skin so much."

"He has a gift of that, doesn't he? I'm so sorry," Harry rubs his fingers through his hair. "We're having fish and chips tonight if that makes you feel better."

"I do miss home," Louis contemplates. "How did you know?"

"Oli told me you were thinking of selling your house here in the states," Harry twirls the barstool around so they're facing one another. "I think you should do whatever is going to make you happy, Lou. I'll support you no matter what." 

Louis takes a look at his drink and scoots it away. "I love this on you, Haz," He runs his fingers down Harry's exposed chest, noticing speckles of glitter dancing off the lights. "And these," he grabs Harry's hand and kisses his fingertips. "And this."

Harry gives him a dimply smile as he grips Louis' jawline in the palm of his hands and still his seducing energy. 

"Do you want to know what I love about you?" Harry rhetorically questions. "How you try to carry the entire world on your shoulders even though you're breaking down. You're the strongest person I know, Lou."

"Don't know about that," Louis disagrees as he wraps his arms around Harry's neck and stands on his tiptoes. "But fanks love. How was your day?"

"It was fine. Recorded some more music, but couldn't wait to get home," Harry admits as he hugs Louis tightly and sits him back on the barstool. "I missed the hell out of you today. I can't stop thinking about the other night. I got all the pleasure and you didn't get any in return."

Louis gasps as his eyes shift to the cook. "Haz!" He buries his face in Harry's strong chest. "Let's take this conversation to the bedroom, yeah?" 

Harry fondly smiles at the blushing man as he tugs Louis out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He pushes Louis into the closed door and kisses the protruding vein on his neck as Louis' legs go limp from the sudden surge of nerve arousal.

"I loved how you pushed away that alcohol," Harry purs in his ear as he licks down his earlobe. 

"Harry," He closes his eyes. He's floating in a sea of ecstasy and hopes that the tide will send him to drown, never awaken outside of this moment. He runs his hand down Harry's bare chest, relishing in the affection tugging at his heartstrings. 

Harry twist the doorknob and guides Louis to his bed. The gold silk sheets give him a cool contrast on his warm skin as he pulls Louis on top of him. He grunts in Louis mouth as he feels Louis rock back and forth on him as they entangle their lips together.

"Fuck," They breathe in, breath out in unison. 

Harry tussles Louis clothes on the floor as he licks a stipe over the 8 of his '78' tattoo before licking down to his nipple. Louis arches his back as his senses awaken an inferno. 

"Hazza," He sighs as he closes his eyes and runs his fingers through Harry's hair. 

Harry removes his articles of clothing as he climbs back on top of Louis and nibbles at Louis left hip. He litters small red marks across his hip bone like a road map as he goes over the same spots over and over again until he sees little hickeys forming. He smiles as he sucks, grateful to not see any fingerprints or bruises from sleazy club patrons. 

Louis bucks up involuntary, unable to stay still as Harry sends shivers down his spine. Harry smirks at Louis' eagerness as he puts his thumb on Louis' tongue alluring him to suck. 

"Yeah?" Harry request permission as Louis nods eagerly. He spits on the top of Louis' head before engulfing him. Louis pants as Harry applies more pressure with his lips. 

"Shit!" Louis moans as he grips the headboard for support. "Best night of my life." 

Harry giggles at the statement, sending small vibrations from his vocal cords down Louis' spine. Louis can't do anything except ravel his fingers in Harry's curly mess. 

Harry places his index finger in Louis' mouth for a second before circling his entrance. Louis absorbs a shallow breath as he sinks his teeth deep into his lip.

It's the first time he's doing this sober, he remembers, and he's afraid. He's afraid that he's going to hate himself in the morning and that Simon will take away everything he's ever worked for; will take away everything Harry's worked for. He's afraid that he's going to love it and become so addicted to Harry that he'll never want to leave this room.

Is that such a bad thing?

"Fuck!" He gasps when Harry pushes in his finger around his tight ring of muscles and flattens his tongue around his shaft. "I'm going to come."

"Mmmhmm," Harry acknowledges as he feels Louis completely still before his throat is shot with salty ribbons of bliss. "Fuck, Louis."

"Fuck is right," Louis wipes away his sweaty fringe. "Your turn."

Between the thin walls, Oli fishes for his earbuds. "Why did I agree to come on this trip again?" He asks the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes. There's that <3\. Hope you enjoyed. Not many chapters left!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be triggering for some readers. Please note that this is all fiction and nothing that hasn't been mentioned in the story before.

The plane lands in London without incident. Louis is grateful to be back on his home soil. He thinks that all the money in the world can't take away the longing to be where you belong. For him, it's these rainy Sundays drinking tea and watching reruns on BBC with Clifford, which is his plan as soon as he gets home.

"I think I'm going to call an Uber. I'm going to go visit my parents for a while," Oli says as they search for their luggage.

"What? We just got home, Mate!" Louis pats him on the back. 

"Yeah, I know, but," He looks between Louis and Harry, as he winks. "I just need a break for a minute. You two are quite...loud."

Louis suddenly feels as if his throat is tight, and his thoughts are jumbled. "You sure?"

"I am, but don't worry. I'll be home tomorrow!" Oli throws his luggage over his shoulder and gets in the awaiting car. 

Harry looks at him, noticing the sudden shift in mood. "Hey, do you remember the fan frenzy of being seen together at airports? They call it Larport," he giggles.

"Yeah, yeah," Louis sighs. "I just got a text from Simon. Someone told Jeff that we were in the same country, and they had to do damage control for you via Ben Winston. Isn't that ridiculous? Can't even be in the same vicinity together now!"

"Well, that just makes me want to do this!" Harry tugs Louis close to him inside of the taxi and plants a kiss on his cheek. "I don't care if they print false stories and try to silence us, Louis. As long as we're together, none of it matters to me."

Louis humors him with a smile until they arrive at his place. His ears ring with jetlag, and his heart feels overwhelmed. Somehow though, he's more than happy to walk through those doors.

"Hey," Eleanor greets them. "Cliff did great. He missed you a lot, of course. He looked out the window at any sound outside," She laughed. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi," Harry gives her a small wave.

"Oh. I've been asked to photograph myself with you and post it on Instagram. You may want to get out of the frame," She winks at Harry as he grabs the phone and snaps a picture. "Something about the two of you traveling to America together. Anyway, I'll catch you, boys, later," She holds Bruce's leash as she exits out the door.

"Sorry about that," Louis huffs as he locks the door behind her.

"She doesn't bother me, Lou. Modest! put her in the story for a reason," Harry runs his fingers over Clifford's soft, curly back. "I'm starving. Let's order takeaway and try to shake off this jetlag, yeah? Or I can go home if you'd like. Shit. I should've asked."

"No, no. It's fine," Louis looks up at him with twinkles in his eyes. "It's just hard, you know? Having to sneak all the time. I feel like I'm holding you back, making your life harder than it has to be." 

"Lou, our lives stopped being ordinary when we were teenagers. Might as well be happy while living in the abnormality," Harry takes his hand and guides him to the couch. "I'm thinking Italian, huh?" 

"Sure," Louis puts his head on Harry's shoulder. "I can go for that, yeah. We need to eat it out in the courtyard. That way, we can adjust to the light and get rid of this stupid jetlag quicker."

\-----

It isn't until forty minutes later that the doorbell rings and their food arrives. Harry sets up a picnic on one of Louis' concrete tables next to a birdbath. He hesitates as he pulls wine out of the refrigerator, but he considers that it's better than Louis grabbing a bottle of alcohol himself.

"Looks delicious! I love Domo94," Louis beams as he sits down. "Proper starved."

"Me too," Harry nods as he takes a bite of his salad. "Did you see what Eleanor posted on the caption?" 

"No," Louis shakes his head. "What does it say?"

"Says 'Glad to be home after spending a lovely evening shopping with my love. He spoils me.' That's funny," Harry giggles. "She has her comments turned off."

"Oi. I'm sure the fans are going to believe that," He sarcastically replies. "Shopping without any bags. It's like she doesn't even try anymore. Lazy, that one," Louis pours a glass of wine in his flute and twirls it around. 

"This pasta," Harry points down at his food. "Is divine," he tries to lighten the mood. "Hey Lou, if you're this stressed out, I don't mind going home tonight, okay?"

"No, no. It isn't you, love. I'm sorry. I think I'm just exhausted or something. I'll feel better in a second, yeah?" He gulps the wine and fills the flute back up. "

They finish their meal in silence except bird chirping. Harry sees vivid colors of violet, magenta, and yellow scattered everywhere as he looks around the courtyard. He notices a garden arch draped with fairy lights. His eyes dart to Louis, whom he notices has a vacant expression on his face.

"That was delicious," He calls out as he takes Louis' hand in his. "At least I think so."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis agrees as he stands up and begins throwing the takeaway boxes away. "So, uh. I think I'm going to nap. I'm trying to wake up, but I'm proper worn out."

"I understand. I need to go home anyway. I have a few errands to run," Harry follows Louis to his bedroom and sits on his bed.

Louis spends no time stripping down to nothing but his boxers and slithering under the covers. "Hey, put my phone on charge before you go, please," Louis fluffs his pillow.

Harry hums as he pulls Louis' phone out of the pocket of his jeans. The screen flickers just as he plugs the charger into the wall.

[Thayer]: I saw you're back in London, darling. Long time, no see. Would love to meet you tonight for our appointment. I miss you!

Harry can feel his blood boiling with jealousy as he looks over at Louis who appears to be completely depleted from the plane ride. He fights back the urge to unlock Louis' phone and tell this guy to never contact him again, but he knows it isn't his choice. 

"Call if you need anything, Lou," Harry runs his fingers through Louis' fringe and glances back at the phone once more. "On second thought, I think I know how to make you rest more peacefully."

"Hmm?" Louis mutters as he opens his eyes. He feels Harry adjusting him from his side to his back kissing down to his navel. "Oh fuck," He purrs. 

"You can tell me to stop if you want," Harry winks at him as he noses the fine hair littering down Louis' subtle abs.

"Never will do that. You're too good," He retorts as he lets a grunt escape his lips and tangles his fingers in Harry's hair.

\-----

With his feet propped up on the studio mixer board, Harry tosses a clementine in the air he's about to devour in a rhythmic pattern. Negative thoughts are consuming him today, and he can only reason it to be Louis not inviting him back over last night.

"You ever notice love is hard?" He asks as the group laughs. "I mean, look at the pair of you," He motions toward Mitch and Sarah. "Always together, laughing and smiling. I just want that, sometimes, you know?"

"Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?" Mitch raises an eyebrow. 

"Not exactly. It's just he's so...." Harry pauses as he tries to describe Louis. "Moody. Hot and cold, if you will."

"Well, I saw the picture of him and his girl-friend on Insta. I think their relationship is just fine," Ny Oh spits out. "Maybe you should reconsider this."

"Oh, rubbish!" Charlotte butts in. "You can see Harry's reflection in her aviator sunglasses!" She giggles as Harry's mouth flies open - not realizing this fact. "I think it's just hard for him because he wants to do what's best for you, and he feels selfish when he gets lost in your charm."

Harry nods as he picks up his guitar. 

_Put a price on emotion  
I'm looking for something to buy  
You've got tmy devotion  
But man, I can hate you sometimes  
_

He looks around the room as the group excitedly scurries to their instruments. 

"That's beautiful!" Sarah claps. "Maybe the next verse should be told from his point of view, right? Like you're alternating the story." 

"Great idea!" Adam cheers them on.

Harry closes his eyes as he tries to change his perspective and look at life through Louis' stunning blue eyes. He reflects on all the drinking, party, the heteronormative narrative. A frown escapes his lips when he realizes the pressure on his shoulders that would make anyone break down, but not his Louis. He's strong.

_I don't want to fight you  
And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt  
We'll get the drinks in  
So I'll get to thinking of her  
We'll be a fine line_

Before he can write any more lyrics, his phone rings. He's surprised to see Oli's name flash. A pit grows in his stomach as he knows it's never a good thing. Without even thinking, he steps out of the recording studio and holds one finger in the air to signal he needs some privacy.

"Hey," He mutters. 

"Harry," Oli pants. "I just came home and found Louis blacked out. He's barley breathing! I already called an ambulance."

"Where?" Harry panics.

"St. Thomas" Oli cries out. 

"On my way," He leaves the studio in a rush. He makes phone calls to his team to guard the hospital and not let any paparazzi or anyone else bother either of them. 

Guilt pools in his gut as he thinks of last night and how he left Louis alone. Did he read him wrong? It seemed he wanted to rest, but maybe when people shut down and block us out is when we need to hug them a little tighter. He thought it was the right thing to do, but now he isn't so sure.

Upon arriving at the hospital, he surrounds himself with bodyguards and disguises himself in oversized clothes and a beret. He sees Louis being wheeled to an empty room down the corridor as he chases the gurney. He doesn't ask questions, only observes the medical staff working. He notices that Louis' lips have a tinged blue color and he's shivering.

He watches as they put oxygen in his nose and thread a tube down his esophagus that appears to have black liquid in it. He squints his eyes to read the medicine bottle, 'activated charcoal.' It isn't long before he's greeted by Oli who appears to be white as a ghost.

"Hey," Harry says softly as he hugs the distraught man. 

"Hey," He fights back a tear. 

With his adrenaline wading, Harry notices that he too is overcome with emotion. "This is all my fault. He wasn't acting like himself last night, and I just left him there because I thought he wanted me to." 

"What do you mean?" Oli watches helplessly from the small window peering into Louis' room.

"I just thought he was jetlagged or something, but he was really tired and quiet. We came home, Eleanor left, and we ordered takeaway. He just seemed so thoughtful. I didn't know!" He bites back a sob. "Before I left, I kinda tucked him in and saw that man was offering himself to Louis. I just figured he'd go to sleep and call me when he wanted to see me again."

Before Oli can respond, a nurse interrupts them. "He's stable for now. Do you know who his next of kin would be?"

"Um, his sister, Lottie," Oli responds looking at the ground. "But I'm always on his emergency contacts. Oli Wright."

"Let me double-check," She opens a clipboard and reads the paperwork. "Very well, Mr. Wright. The doctor will be in shortly. Mr. Tomlinson will be in room 388. You can go on up if you'd like."

Harry sighs heavily as he shuffles his feet to the elevator. He notices all the loud beeping and mindless chatter from hospital patrons. The bright fluorescent lights above him are making his head pound, and he's finding the elevator too enclosed for his liking. He checks his phone and dismisses the notification from his confused bandmates who are wondering where he hurried away to. 

"What man?" Oli asks breaking the silence. "That texted him last night."

"His name was Thor," Harry racks his brain. "Or Thomas."

"Thayer," Oli shakes his head. "Remember that appointment I called you about a-while back and asked you to sabotage it? Well, he was the appointment."

"Who is he?" Harry questions as the elevator slides open to the third floor. 

"Well," Oli takes in a deep breath as they walk down the hallway. "About two years ago, Louis met this man at a regal bar. They had some sort of agreement. It's when Louis began drinking heavily and I swear that man's responsible for the roofies. He shows up everywhere and if Louis misses an appointment with him, this seems to always happen. I think he puts something in the alcohol he gives Louis."

"What?" Harry's mouth gapes open. "But Louis is so smart. Why would he let someone do that to him? Especially now. He has me. He can use me!"

"I don't think you understand, Harry," Oli stands outside room 388 as he continues the conversation. "Thayer doesn't leave him alone whether he wants it or not. It's my guess he paid Louis a surprise visit last night and brought alcohol with him and who knows what else. When Louis gets in a dark, thinking place, he sort of shuts everyone out and just goes on some mission to self-destruct."

"I know," Harry nods. He thinks back to the One Direction days when Louis tried to completely shut him out for about a year before they were able to rekindle their happy friendship, relationship, whatever they wanted to call it on a particular day.

"You ready for this?" Oli puts one arm around Harry's shoulder and guides him into the room. 

A doctor is hoovering over Louis' bed and looking at the monitor. "Good afternoon, Gentlemen. Your friend here is very lucky. His oxygen is below normal, but he's slowly coming back into consciousness. It'll take a little bit longer for the activated charcoal to absorb some of the chemicals we found in his system."

"What exactly did you find?" Harry rubs his palms together nervously.

"Well, substantial amounts of alcohol. Ambien - it's a popular sedative. Lab results also show Ketamine. That's a peculiar one because it's most often found here in my setting, a hospital. I don't know about that one. He got here just in time. He almost suffered respiratory failure."

"I would like to file a police report," Oli blurts out as he watches Louis' chest shallowly rise and fall. 

"Mr. Wright, please mind your business," Simon walks into the room and stands next to the doctor. "Well, oh my word. Mr. Styles. Charming to see you here."

"Simon?" Harry questions confused. He thought he had all this covered when he asks his team to cover for him, keep them safe....his team, right. The ones who don't want him to be seen with Louis anymore than Louis' team wants them to be seen together. _We're just a dollar sign to them_.

"It's been years, Harry. I'm sorry we meet under these circumstances. I know you care deeply for Louis," He puts his hand on Harry's shoulder. He looks over to his left and advises his security to shut the door. "Louis is in worse shape than I ever thought possible. If he were awake, I'd apologize to him myself. How long does he need?" He makes eye contact with the doctor.

"That's to be determined. I'll be back in a moment," The doctor writes something on the clipboard and exits the room.

"You don't have to leave, Harry. I know your presence helps him. Hence why I summoned you and the others before the 'Just Hold On' performance. I do want what's best for him as I'm sure Columbia wants what's best for you," Simon sits down beside Louis bed. 

Harry looks down at the ground and folds his arms together. "I want to believe that, but our lives prove otherwise," He snaps.

"It's not just me," Simon puts his hands up in surrender. "You have controls on your side too, young man. It's just how the industry is. Look, I wanted to give him a mental health break, but here we are - again, in the hospital for the third time. I don't know what Louis needs." Before he can continue the conversation, his phone rings.

Oli walks over to the other side of the bed and hugs Louis lightly, relieved that his chest is beginning to have less labored breathing. He shoots Simon a scowl before taking an empty chair beside his friend.

"That was the security team. Surveillance footage shows a man leaving Louis' property this morning around 5 am and throwing a vodka bottle of the window. Initial testing shows that the alcohol was, as suspected, mixed with something else. My concerns are that if you take this to the police, they will sell the story for money. We all know that will make Louis' life a circus for a while. Do what you want with it, gentlemen."

"You're right," Oli sighs. "Is there anything you can do?" He can't believe he's asking Simon for his help.

"I can pull some strings and get the man detained with hush money, yes. I'll do that much for Louis. I have to run, but please keep me informed. And Harry? It was nice seeing you again. You're like a son to me," Simon stands up and pats Harry on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Harry and Oli decide not to conversate as Harry takes the seat formally occupied by Simon and holds Louis' cold hand. They watch the monitors keep track of his breathing, pulse, and heart rate. With each little dip in the lines, they gasp.

\-----

It isn't until around 48 hours later that Louis wakes up fully. His eyes open, and he feels sunlight on his face. He notices Harry's holding his hand while he snores lightly, using the bed as a pillow. He tries to speak, but the oxygen has his mouth sandpaper-like.

"Mmm," He mutters as he tries to sit up.

Harry's jolted aroused by the motion and rubs his eyes frantically. "Lou." He rushes out of the room and returns with a cup of ice water. "Fresh from the nurse's station. Here," he tilts the straw to Louis' lips.

"Harry?" Louis whispers in a stupor state. "Dammit! I'm back in the hospital. Nurse Emma is going to give me the chewing of a lifetime."

"Don't worry about that now," Harry pets his hair softly. "Oli went to the cafeteria for a coffee, but he'll be back in a minute. I'm so happy you're awake."

Louis blinks his eyes as he tries to read the notes on the dry erase board adjacent to his bed. _Goal for today: Up and moving, solid foods, and counseling._

"Bloody hell. I blacked out again, didn't I? I just wanted to take a nap," He remembers.

\-----

It isn't until three days later that Louis is discharged home with strict instructions for light activity. He's buzzing to be back home, even if Oli and Harry hoover over him like he's a baby.

"I had a sort of flashback today," He admits as his knee swings two and fro in the couch. "If that's what you call it. I think Thayer was here."

"Simon said his car showed up on the security footage," Harry shakes his head.

"Oh shit. Simon was at the hospital? I'll never hear the end of this one," Louis sighs. "Anyway, I remember me doorbell ringing. I thought it was you again, Harry, and that you missed me too much to stay away," He wiggles his eyebrows as Harry hits him with a pillow gently. "But it was Thayer. He said he wanted to check on me because I've been ignoring his text. I explained to him that I'm in a different place in my life now and that I wanted to call our arrangement off. He seemed to understand. Offered me a parting gift of special vodka from Sweden. I invited him in, and, well, that's all I remember."

"Louis, I don't understand what you were ever thinking. That business mogul has always, always been a slimeball," Oli shutters. "From day one."

"I guess I wasn't thinking, or maybe I was thinking too much," He shrugs as he stretches his knee out and places it on Harry's lap. "You kill my mind, Harry. You know that?" 

"Is that a good thing?" Harry asks as he runs his hand up and down Louis' trackie covered calves.

"Always a good thing." 

"Hey, I'm going to go and play some football with Calvin. Want to come?" Oli questions as he looks between the pair. "Probably not, okay," He laughs as he leaves the room. 

Harry wraps his arms around Louis and pulls him on top of him, squeezing him tightly and intertwining their legs together. 

"I was so worried about you, Lou. I'm sorry if I did anything to push you away that night," He declares.

"No, never love. I was just in me head too much that day. Not being allowed to even be on the same continent at the same time had me down, you know? I should've talked to you about it more."

"Communication's never been our strong suit," Harry admits. 

"I promise to stop being so dramatic," Louis flips them around and spoons Harry. "You're too good to me."

"I want to keep being good to you as long as you'll let me, even if it means you just using me like we have been," Harry sinks his teeth deep into his bottom lip. "Just tasting your skin is intoxicating to me."

"I'm not using you, Harry," Louis pulls his closer to his chest. "Why you say that, love?"

"Because sometimes I feel like the only time I see your real soul is when I'm spreading you open," He reinverts the position and flips Louis on his back. 

He pins Louis' wrist above his head and kisses down his neck. "See. Just now, your eyes became more delicate, more honest. I can see you love me. I can see the Louis I fell in love with."

"Maybe the Louis you fell in love with only feels brave when he's lost in your eyes. Maybe you take away my trepidation," Louis' eyelashes flutter softly on his cheekbones as Harry gasps. "Bet you can't use that word in a song, scrabble master."

"You don't know me very well, then," Harry teases as he lets go of Louis' wrist and pulls the pair of them to their feet. "Want to log onto my burner account and spy on the theories about us?"

"Only if we take a photo and watermark it as a manip," Louis' winks at him as he crawls into his lap. 

"Deal," Harry excitedly opens his camera app. "Rude not to," He mocks Eleanor as he snakes his hand up Louis' shirt and pinches at his nipple. Louis'' mouth flies open as Harry snaps the picture. "That's a good one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a fantastic and loving Christmas! I can't believe it's almost New Years <3 To my loyal readers, you all keep me going during the holiday! Only 1/2 chapters left! You're too kind to me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love is love.

It's been four months since Louis was forced to go on a mental health break. He sits in the Syco headquarters impatient to get this meeting over with. He knows that he must be on his best behavior if he wants to get out of this unscathed.

"Louis," Simon adust the collar of his shirt. 

"Good to see ya," Louis sticks his hand out to shake.

"Likewise," Simon grabs a pen. "It hurt my heart to see you in the hospital. I'm just thankful no media report came out of it this time."

"Me too," Louis sighs. 

"I was surprised to see Mr. Styles there I gotta say," Simon plays with the hem of his shirt. "But it was refreshing to see the two of you thrive after all your obstacles."

"Fanks," Louis replies though he's suspicious.

"You're at your quarter-year mark and as promised, I am allowing you to work again. However, I just want to be clear that you and Harry still have to make sure you keep your professional and romantic life separate," Simon says sternly.

"Understood," Louis spits. "Trust me, a decade of this spiel. I know."

"Do take care of yourself, Louis," Simon wheels his chair away from his desk. "You will be one of the last albums under my label before I go defunct. Make me proud."

As Louis dismissed himself from the meeting, he sits in the parking garage that he hates so much as it's the front door to his prison. He reflects on the past few months and how it's been both a struggle and a blessing. 

Not many people get second chances at love.

\-----

Inside the studio, Harry reads lines that he's written for his bandmates. There's something different about this song, he realizes. Sure, he intends on making it the last song on his album, but there's something honest about it - just like Golden. What will Louis think?

"Trepidation, what the hell does that even mean?" Mitch strums his guitar.

"Had to throw it in there," Harry laughs. "It means the fear that something may happen."

"Wait," Charlotte jumps out of her chair and claps. "I get it. This song is about being with someone and waiting on something bad to happen, but you still want to be with them. Is this about Louis?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugs his shoulders. "We, uh. It's hard, you know? I love spending time with him, but I'm just so unsure how he feels sometimes. I love to spend time with him, but he's always afraid that something's going to happen to me."

The band grows silent for a minute as they ponder on his words. He fills in the silence with his continued rant. "We lost touch a little bit after the band broke up. I guess I'm afraid of losing him again."

"Harry," Ny Oh swivels around her piano chair. "If you two can't make it, there's no hope a happy love story for anyone." 

_We'll be a fine line_   
_We'll be a fline line_

"Thank you," Harry smiles at her. "I can't wait for everyone to hear this album. I'm going to invite Louis over tonight. I'm excited for him to hear it. You know, I never did learn who sent him that raw copy of Golden."

"About that," Mitch sighs. "Harry, we need to talk to you...."

\-----

Louis sat with Oli scrolling through Twitter reading the responses from fans who viewed the 'manip.' Louis was delighted to see that they thought it was cute, and relieved to read comments that they 'wished it were real' and 'one day we'll get real photos.'

When his phone dings an invite from Harry, his body buzzes with excitement. He has been quite addicted to spending time with him lately, and can't imagine doing anything else. He wants the partying behind him and to make better choices. It doesn't help anything dwelling on things he cannot change, and he's learned to accept that fact. 

"I think I'm going to Harry's tonight," Louis blurts out as he logs off his fan account. 

"You don't have to call Eleanor. I'll stay here with Cliff," Oli offers. "Because I know one thing leads to the other and you two always end up moaning in the darkness."

"Shut up, Mate. I've scarred you for life, haven't I?" Louis feels his cheeks match the color of cherries. 

"Only slightly," Oli teases him.

\-----

It's half past 9 when Sam parks the car in Harry's driveway. Louis feels beyond excited to be going to his house again. Tonight feels a bit different. He knows he's somewhat free - proven that he doesn't need to have a mental health clause, proven he can be trustworthy of his own affairs again.

He beams when he sees a pile of curls greet him with expensive Gucci jeans and a yellow floral top. Harry has his nails painted baby pink and blue, and his feet are wearing old man loafers that Louis can't help but smile fondly at.

"You summoned me?' Louis teases. 

"I did! I want to celebrate with you, Lou," Harry purrs. "I recorded my last song tonight. I wanted to share it with you." 

"I would love to hear it," Louis pipes up and takes a sip of the familiar rose wine. 

"Okay, but don't give me any critiques until you hear the whole thing, alright?" Harry begs as Louis nods.

Harry pulls Louis into his chest and strokes his hair as he plays "Fine Line" over his loudspeaker. Louis closes his eyes tight as listens to Harry's haunting voice. 

_Put a price on emotion  
I'm looking for something to buy  
You got my devotion,  
but man, I can hate you sometimes_

Louis lets out a small giggle though he doesn't find it funny. It's just a statement he agrees with. He finds Harry enchanting, seductive, but sometimes, intimidating and careless. Harry contemplates the same idea. He doesn't want to spend his life with anyone else, but he feels like he's chasing a ghost sometimes. Why does Louis make it so difficult?

_I don't want to fight you  
And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt  
We'll get the drinks in  
So I'll get to thinking of her_

A tear rolls down Louis' face all too quickly as he hears these lyrics - the meaning hitting him extra hard. Since they've been teenagers, they've been asked to stage this heteronarrative with the _her_ of the week, the month, the year. Sometimes, the only way they could even tolerate this was to drink, and drinking Louis did - until he nearly died.

_We'll be a fine line  
We'll be a fine line_

He's paying special attention to this song. Its melody and words are tugging at his heartstrings making a lump in his throat form. He's had a lot of lumps, he notes, but somehow, they're therapeutic.

_Test of my patience  
There's things that we'll never know  
You sunshine, you temptress  
My hand's at risk, I fold_

Louis puts his head on Harry's chest as the tears begin to fall once more. He wants to blame the wine, but he knows he hasn't had nearly enough to be this emotional. It's the sincere sting of the honesty in these lyrics that piercing through his soul. He's hurt Harry more times than he cares to admit, and he wishes he could kiss his younger self in the ass. 

_Crisp trepidation  
I'll try to shake this soon  
Spreading you open  
Is the only way of knowing you_

"Fuck," He mutters under his breath. "He used that damn word in this song."

Louis' thoughts begin to swim around like fishes trying to fight over bread crumbs at the lake. Is this really how he perceives things? That he's afraid to give Louis his entire heart because the only time he's authentic is when they're being intimate? 

"I've royally messed up," Louis concludes. 

_We'll be a fine line  
We'll be a fine line  
We'll be a fine line  
We'll be a fine line_

"Well, that's the end of the album," Harry looks down at Louis, concern growing on his brow when he feels Louis climb off of him and take a gulp of wine - reminiscent of them listening to 'Golden' together. The song that started them down this crazy road.

Louis adjusted his fringe and paced around the room, his eyes making contact with Harry in vague glances. The phantom of a song danced around in his mind, over and over. _We'll be a fine line_.

Before he could stop them, tears streamed down his face. He tried to pour another glass of wine, but Harry denied him the pleasure as he put the bottle back in the refrigerator before turning back into the living room, approaching Louis.

"Louis," He grabs his chin and forces eye contact. "What did you think?"

"I think," Louis takes in a deep breath. "I think I've been a brat. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want you to think that I just come over for foreplay. Harry, you mean so much to me. You're like the best thing that ever happened to me, and I've done nothing but run from you. I'm scared and I'm not afraid to admit that. I want to be with you so bad, but I want to protect you too. No matter what Simon tries to take away from me, as long as you get to live your life, I'm okay."

Harry strokes Louis' cheek and smiles at him. "And that's why we'll always be a fine line."

"No," Louis shakes his head in disagreement. "We're going to be more than a fine line. You can't end the song that way. I promise you, no matter what anyone from the outside world tries to throw at us, we'll be alright."

"We'll be alright!" Harry echoes. "We'll be alright! That's the ending, Louis! We'll be alright! We always are!" 

"We always are," Louis accepts. 

"We'll be alright! We'll be alright!" 

Louis wipes away one more tear out of the corner of his eye before pushing Harry on the couch and climbing on his lap. He cradles his cheeks between his hands and collides their foreheads together.

Harry's breath stutters as Louis grazes their noses together, a small intimate gesture that's always been between them. It was almost like a sign language, a testament of their love. 

"We'll be alright," Louis brings his lips to whisper in his ear as he licks at his lobe. "Loving you's the antidote." Louis kisses down his jawline and makes his way to his lips.

Harry reverses the position laying Louis down on the couch in a heated fever. He moans at the victory when he removes his jeans and sees no bruises on his legs, no signs that he's been seeking affection elsewhere or shame in who he is. He can feel his body growing with desire as he sees the same indication in Louis' eyes.

Louis greedily grabs at Harry's jeans, pulling them over the 'v' line between his hips, and decides to admire the sight in front of him for a minute by rubbing his hands all over the laurel tattoos. 

"Always loved the placement of these."

"If I recall, Mr. Tomlinson, you wanted to punch the tattoo guy as I was getting them," Harry teases as he removes Louis' shirt.

"If I recall, Mr. Styles, this space is for me and me only," Louis sinks his teeth deep into his bottom lip and grabs at Harry's boxers. 

"I want to worship you tonight, Louis. Can I?" Harry begs as he takes Louis/ hands and pulls him to this feet. "I want to deflower my sunflower."

"Is that a pickup line?" Louis burst into a fit of giggles. "But I'm going to say fuck yes because I've been waiting on this a long ass time."

\-----

The stars cascade the walls of Harry's bedroom. The room smells like coconuts and aftershave and the sheets feel like a divine silky texture that feels cool on Louis' back. Louis can see mossy eyes staring at him through the small rays, and his only response he can muster is to stare back at the moment.

He's been dreaming of this moment for weeks, going as far as changing his diet by eating more fiber. Oli made fun of him for the bland cereal for breakfast, but he didn't care. Oli didn't know or understand the planning it takes in an intimate relationship. 

Yet, though he's yearned for this moment, anxiety still overwhelms him. He has not had much wine, and this unquestionably won't be a quick masochist session (nor does he want it to be.)

It's never been a secret that Harry could make him soft, emotional at the drop of the hat. He's always had that effect on him, and now that he's splayed out naked in his bed, there's an uncertainty on how to act. 

He's shared his body with more people than he's cared to admit, but his heart has always been preserved, encased in ice. He's never wanted to share that part of him before, always knowing that if it wasn't going to be with Harry, he was meant to be in loneliness forever.

But he isn't lonely. Harry's licking his skin in such a lustful manner that all he can do is cry out in pleasure, allowing his eyes to roll in the back of his head. 

He misses Harry as soon as he stops the physical contact to run to his bathroom. He can't help but pull the silky sheet over him suddenly feeling bashful of his bareness. 

Harry comes back with a bottle of Lovehoney in his hand, pulling Louis' legs to the edge of the bed. He warms the liquid up between his fingers and kisses at Louis' collarbones. Louis can't hold back the urge to reciprocate the touch, reaching between their torsos to stroke Harry's shaft. 

"I love you," Louis mumbles, his senses feeling somehow intoxicated. 

"I love you," Harry parrots as he looks at Louis in the eyes for a second waiting for permission to take this further. "I know we aren't good at communicating, but I'll need you to on this. Are you sure you want this?"

"More than anything," Louis doesn't' hesitate to answer.

"Tell me what you like," Harry attaches their lips in a kiss. "What position? What kind of foreplay?" 

"I've sung in front of millions of people, but this is the thing making me shy," Louis adjusts his fringe. 

"Just want you to feel safe, Lou. You've had some pretty bad experiences lately," Harry answers honestly as he kisses at Louis' chest. 

"I think I want you to do this," Louis grabs the bottle of Lovehoney and removes the cap. He squeezes a good amount onto Harry's index and middle finger. Harry raises an eyebrow in excitement.

"Mmm," Harry teases at Louis' entrance. 

Louis grabs a fistful of Harry's hair and uses it to ground him, keep his limbs from flying around in lust. He pushes into the fingers, a sudden invasion drawing filthy moans out of his mouth. Harry realizes that he doesn't have to do any guesswork as Louis thrust his hips in and out.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this before," Harry's deep voice mutters on the noises. "All for me."

"For you," Louis agrees as he closes his eyes and continues to open his tight ring of muscles. "I'm ready."

"You sure?" Harry asks as he pulls out and pours lubricant all over his shaft. 

Louis' eyes are closed, but his hands latch onto Harry's thighs, pulling him closer. "Yes, Hazza. Yes."

Harry grabs either side of Louis' thighs and lines himself up. He stops for a second admiring the stunning man below him who is breathing in and out just for him. He bends down to interlock their lips together as he pushes in slowly. Louis lets out a keen as he feels his toes curl. He places one calf over Harry's back and pushes Harry into more.

Harry thrust in and out, sweat forming on his brow. Louis' voice resounds off the walls, a symphony that Harry wants to hear over and over again. Louis' hands snake their way around Harry's neck as he pulls him back down for a kiss.

"You feel amazing," Harry pants in his mouth. "I don't think I can ever go without this again."

As they both chase their high, feeling a tight pull in their stomachs, they intertwine their fingers together as Harry nibbles at Louis' shoulder.

"I love you so fucking much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Thanks so much for the reads. <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is ready for this ending? <3 Somewhere along the way, I lost my plot and it sorta messed up the flow of the story. However I appreciate everyone who stayed with me and continued to read it! You mean so much to me. Thank you Xo.

They sit gazing at the lustrous city lights illuminating over London. It's a beautiful tapestry that sets their souls on fire, and maybe tonight, Louis feels the heat for a whole another reason. 

"Harry," He clears his throat as he takes a sip of wine. "I have something I want to show you."

"Yeah?" Harry detaches his eyes from the majestic scenery and takes Louis' hand. "You're shaking."

"I'm a little nervous," Louis giggles as he buries his face in Harry's shoulder. 

"Around me after all this time?" Harry gasps. "Don't you know by now I love you unconditionally? We've known each other for nearly half our lives!"

"I know, but," Louis gulps and shifts his body around. "I care about your opinion the most."

He takes Harry's hand in his as they climb back in the bay window. The warm air hits them immediately, and they're both a little thankful to be out of the crisp autumn air. It probably wasn't the best night to be sitting on a rooftop, but they didn't know that at the time.

Louis guides Harry to sit on the edge of his bed as he closes the door to his room. He can hear Clifford whine for a moment, but he texts Oli and asks him to keep him occupied while he completes his task.

Harry furrows his brows when he notices Louis taking another sip of wine. It's the first indication that this goes beyond nerves. 

"Louis," He comes behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. "It'll be okay, I promise."

"I know, it's just -- I worked so hard on this album, and I've had to wait so long, ya know? This song means a lot to me." 

Harry fondly smiles at Louis. He's happy to see slivers of the man he first fell in love with peek through the facade sometimes. 

"And I'm sure it'll mean a lot to me too," Harry reassures him as he kisses his hand.

With one quick breath, Louis opens his recorder app and presses play. A crackling guitar fills the air followed by his soft, raspy voice. 

_Pour mercy, mercy on me, set fire to history  
I'm breakin' my own rules, I'm cryin' like a fool  
Tall stories on the page, short glories on the fade  
I been close enough to touch, but I never cared for love  
It's a church of burnt romances  
and I'm too far gone to pray  
It's a solo song and it's only for the brave_

"Louis," Harry holds onto his hand tighter.

_If the truth tell, darling, you fell  
Like there ain't enough dying stars in your sky  
It's a tall tell, and it's only hello, hello, no goodbye  
Pour mercy, mercy on me, I'll fall upon my knees  
And they'll say, "I told you so  
Come on, when you know, you know"  
All the lonely shadow dances from the cradle to the grave  
It's a solo song and it's only for the brave_

"I love it!" Harry embraces him. "Absolutely." 

"It's my song for us, Harry. We've always been a 'tall tale', a conspiracy, and we probably always will be as long as we want this life, but I love you. I searched a long time on how to be brave about it, and I am now. I love you with all my heart. I don't have to hide who I am anymore." 

Harry brushes a tear from his waterline as he continues to hold Louis and let him share his narrative.

"Simon didn't want to put the song on the record, but I demanded it. He kinda gave me permission after I refused to back down. He said his label is disbanding and he wants my album to be one of his last. I guess it's his sick way of having to control me one last time, you know? Still, I don't care anymore because I'm almost free."

"You're almost free," Harry repeats. 

"When you know, you know. You know?" Harry laughs as he recalls him fondly sharing the memory contained in the lyrics. "I've always been so gone for you, Louis."

"I literally poured sugar on my head just to make you laugh. I think I fell way before you did, love," Louis winks at him. "You make me such a sap." 

"I do not," Harry dismisses. "You've always been a sap. You just feel comfortable enough to be open about it around me."

Louis sticks his tongue out at him before jumping in his arms. "I'm so glad we have this."

"Me too," Harry agrees as he attaches their lips together.

Downstairs, Oli sits on the couch scrolling through his phone with Clifford beside him. It isn't long before he can hear a mattress creaking and voices carrying down the stairwell. He fishes for his headphones in his jean pocket and looks at the curly-furred dog.

"Let's go on a walk, huh? They'll be at it for a while."

\-----

An hour after Harry falls asleep, Louis tip-toes downstairs with his wine bottle and joins Oli on the couch.

"I was loud again, wasn't I?" Louis feels his cheeks flame.

"I'll never get used to it," Oli laughs as he puts his phone on his stomach and gives Louis his full attention. "I'm glad you don't drink as much," he turns the conversation serious when he sees the bottle.

"Me too," Louis answers truthfully. "I was just putting this in the refrigerator."

They sit in silence for a second before Oli swallows and carefully chooses his words. "I thought I was going to lose you. It's like you had this shame eating at you for so long, you didn't care if you lived or died. I'm not saying Harry saved you. I'm just saying that I'm glad you two were able to explore that unfinished chapter."

"Me too," Louis plays with his bottom lip. "I'm not going to let anyone take away my truth anymore. I'm going to fight it the best I can within reason."

"You should," Oli agrees. 

Before they can share anything else, they hear a door opening and footsteps getting closer to them. Harry wipes his eyes and sits beside of Louis. 

"The bed was cold without you," Harry whispers in his ear. 

"I'm sorry, love. Just had a lot on my mind is all," Louis pats his thigh.

"Hey, who wants to play scrabble?" Harry claps his hands together.

Oli and Louis sigh as they know this is a game they're bound to lose, but choose to play it anyway.

This life, Louis realizes, is one that alcohol can never enhance or bury. It's only hello, hello. No goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEARS! Again, I really do appreciate you sticking with this story and reading it. I imagined it a lot differently though and I'm not sure how it didn't turn out that way considering it's my imagination writing it lol. Oh well. Can't win them all. 
> 
> \- Does anyone have any trope suggestions? Thank you <3


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